


Rekindling

by RequiemRedRose



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Parallel to original world, Tea shop AU, The Jasmine Dragon (Avatar), Zuko is banished to America, Zuko works in the tea shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RequiemRedRose/pseuds/RequiemRedRose
Summary: For all the few good things he's done, Zuko thought that maybe even he deserved a break from the drama life brought. Exiled to the US and losing almost everything that mattered. Going after a young, bald whistleblower, only to befriend him and then betray him. He thought it couldn't get worse, until that new part timer came and decided to be another thorn in his flesh.Modern setting AU.
Relationships: Zuko (Avatar)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

Rekindling

Chapter 1

You're alone  
You're on your own  
So what, have you gone blind  
Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?

(King, Lauren Aquilina)

Hong Zuko (洪蘇科) thought this would be another day of normals. Normality pretty much summed up the whole duration of his work ever since the day he started.

Fix some tea. Clean the cupboards and the tables. Do some dishes. Rearrange the chairs. Days were filled with monotony that swallowed him up, and he didn't really mind. It was better that way.

Dealing with the customers was probably the worst part. He'd rather stay behind the bar and prepare whatever tea they ordered, quietly listening to the soft Asian music that played in the background. But his job called for human interaction. Well, considering that the tea shop was quite hidden in the downtown Chinatown, only a few people frequented the place. Mostly old people who probably didn't have anything else to do with the time they have.

He expected this day to be no different, except that it was.

Finally seeing the end of his patience, he dropped the bags of dried leaves in the sink and turned to the source of the unwanted attention. His boss insisted that he needed help to manage the shop, to which he had vehemently disagreed, only to be laughed at and patted forcefully in the back.

He glared at the new waitress with a glare that could've melted the biggest glacier in the Antarctic, and she looked like she noticed, ducking her head with reddened cheeks.

Gathering a deep breath, he walked up to her and noticed the way she fumbled with the papers in front of her. He ignored this and intensified his scowl.

"Mind telling me what you've been looking at, Yane?"

Said orange-haired woman lifted her face up with a trembling, fragile smile. "Lee," she croaked, calling him by his false name, "I—uh, wasn't…"

"I caught you staring," he hissed, anger rising above his head as he walked one step towards her. "Why, is this the first time you saw a scar this big?"

Her earlier flushed face drained of color, and she gawked at him with disbelief. "No, that's not... Wait, you completely misunderstood."

"What's there to misunderstand about someone rudely staring at a flaw in my face?" he answered with a rough jab of his finger to his scar, not bothering to mask the venomous tone in his voice.

She shrank back at his outburst as she held on the multitude of papers in front of her like a shield. Hastily, she shook them before he could fire another word to her, the fluttering sounds of paper blending in with the background music.

Confused, he squinted his undamaged eye. Illustrations of what seemed like wounds were printed on the paper, ranging from harmless looking abrasions to gruesome and bloody avulsions. He opened his mouth to demand what she wanted to even relay, but she beat him to it.

"I was studying," she said sheepishly. "I have an exam soon, and it's kind of been a while since I practiced my... describing lesions skills for dermatology—"

His eyes widened at her words, and seeing this, she waved her hands defensively and spluttered, "Wait, let me explain! I'm just trying to observe your... scar in an objective manner, okay? It's not in the way you think."

Yane kept her gaze locked onto his, even though it's so clear that she wanted to practically start running away from him the moment an opportunity presented itself. Nervously scratching on her arm with her eyes averted, she continued, "Sorry if I offended you. I didn't mean to. I didn't think you'd notice."

He bit back the sarcastic reply that threatened to leave his lips and turned away from her to get back to work. The tea leaves wouldn't be boiling themselves.

"Can I help with that?" he heard her chirp from behind.

"No," he muttered and started to cut the bag open and pour out the leaves in the strainer. Today was Saturday, which probably meant old man Tai Jia was going to be here with the rest of his Pai Sho buddies to drink their asses off 'til the store closes. Which also means he'd be getting a huge amount of tip today.

A small, greedy smile graced his lips before he noticed. That nosy geezer might be a pain in the neck, but he paid well.

As fast as his smile appeared, it fell off his face like a loosely tied mask. Back in the days, he was an heir to a multi-billionaire company. He was close to what ancient times would've dubbed as royalty. A prince. But now, all of that remained a remnant that's barely tangible in his memories. Sometimes, he even forgot what life had been before... before everything went down south for him. Were they even real to begin with?

He gently grabbed the handle of the kettle and poured out the boiling water into the leaves, the steam partially obscuring his view. The aroma of Jasmine hit his nose, and as if by instinct, his eyes started to water at the sense of nostalgia brought about by that familiar scent.

He missed my uncle. He wished he was here to tell him that the way he was making his favourite beverage was wrong, to tell him that he had to put on a smile every time that door bell jingled a soft melody—

His stare traveled to his lone co-worker as she headed over to welcome the customers.

—and maybe to even tell him off for being ill-mannered towards a lady like that.

He watched Yane Koujida, if he remembered her surname correctly, waltz across the store with a wide smile plastered on her face. She talked with the newly arrived customers, speaking fluently in English while the old men replied with a slightly broken but still understandable form. Her lively demeanour dampened considerably upon her approach to him, a piece of paper no doubt containing the orders in her hands. Cautiously, as though he'd blow off on her again, she handed the list.

"Uhm, they said—" she began with uncertainty but was interrupted when Tai Jia from the table raised his hand to wave magnanimously at him.

" 季！新來的女侍嗎？(Lee! You have a new waitress?)" Tai Jia asked, earning a couple of smiles from his friends.

He kept his face neutral and shrugged, "嗯 。日本來的。(Yeah. She's from Japan.)"

"那麼漂亮啊！喜歡她嗎？(What a beauty! You like her?)" he asked with eyes narrowing into slits as a huge, annoying grin filled his face.

He shot the nastiest glare he could, but the supposed intimidating expression was instead rewarded by loud guffaws and jeers from the windbags. Yane was still looking to him as she waited for him to listen.

Sighing, he told her, "I'll prepare the tea. They always order Jasmine as their usual. Wait for me."

He started to walk away when she called back, "Wait."

Not stopping in his tracks, he asked impatiently, "What?"

"They told me that they had a new friend," she relayed, her voice, he noted, still a bit shaky like she was constantly jittery in her nerves. "And—"

He turned around this time. She jumped in her feet and quickly tore her eyes from his, looking bashful like she was a child caught stealing a cookie from the jar. She was still probably shaken after their earlier ordeal. He wanted to heave a deep sigh at that and straight up ask her if she really found him that scary. It was getting annoying and bothering all together.

He scratched the back of his head and repeated in a much softer tone, "What?"

Yane smiled uneasily. "She wanted some Nai Cha instead of Jasmine tea. Can I make that? I saw you do it a while ago, and it doesn't seem too hard I guess"

She added a small, awkward chuckle and hugged herself. He raised his eyebrows at the display and wondered if this jumpy woman would be able to make such a drink without accidentally knocking off some ingredients. Then again, she had to get used to it. Customers were most of the time few in number, but there were also times when they filled up the store like tea-hungry ants... Okay, that didn't make much sense.

He'd need a hand when those events came. Not to mention, Chinese new year was just around the corner. The earlier she learned, the earlier he got some work off his hands.

"Okay," he sent a noncommittal shrug and gestured her over. "I'll watch you do it."

Yane hesitated. He could guess she wanted to say that she'd do it on her own, but by the looks of her defeated and embarrassed pout, she realized that she couldn't exactly decline when he was three years her senior in this job. She nodded somewhat slowly and proceeded on preparing the ingredients.

She poured the ready-made black tea into the mixer, added two cups of hot milk and started to shake them gently, similar to how a chemist swirls a solution with unknown formulas. Zuko narrowed his eyes and leaned forward to take the mixer and give it a vigorous shake.

"You need to shake it stronger," he instructed. "You won't mix it adequately with how you're going."

She nodded and retrieved the container, her eyebrows scrunched up in attentiveness. Without any preamble, she rattled the thing violently like she was furiously mad and for a while, he worried that the metallic mixer would fly off her hand and shoot across the room to an unsuspecting customer. The rattling sound bit on his nerves and increased his agitation with each tick.

Adapting an aghast expression, Zuko reached for the mixer but she retracted her hands and opened the lid. Yane checked the beverage inside and grinned, "Looks mixed already. Is this okay?"

He glanced briefly at the bubbling, frothy milk tea and frowned. It looked more like a witch's concoction now than nai cha. Definitely not presentable, especially to a new customer. Sneering, he barked, "I didn't tell you to shake it that fast! Give me that."

He snatched the mixer and grabbed a spoon in the drawer. Fuming, he worked on removing the froth out and disdainfully throwing the bubbles into the sink.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered behind him. "I thought people like some foam—"

He heaved another loud, exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, the warning sense of an upcoming headache pounding on him. She was supposed to make his job easier. Not make him do more work by having him teach her things she should've been oriented with already.

He looked sideways to her frown, mimicking the expression of a scolded child, her eyes downcast.

He swallowed, Uncle Iroh's voice chiding him about his anger management issues again in his head. He groaned inwardly and resisted the urge to slap his forehead.

"Weren't you taught by the boss?" he asked in a controlled tone, patience tethering at the edges.

She met his eyes and shook her head. "She didn't. She just gave me a list of simple instructions, recipes, and asked me to google the rest up."

So, that old hag really left the troublesome part to him? He rolled his eyes as he poured the beverage into the tea cup.

Oh, joy.

"Come here an hour earlier tomorrow," Zuko tersely told her as he handed the cup over.

"You'll teach me?" she asked dubiously with wide eyes.

Her black irises glimmer under the dim lights, a flash of something passing over those eyes as an uneasy smile took residence on her face. He blinked, a carefully buried memory of a different set of obsidian eyes snapping unbidden. A frown took over his features before he could stop it.

He turned away from Yane and nodded, "Yeah, don't be late."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko hears her singing, but it's not her voice that makes his blood run cold.

When the morning comes  
When we see what we've become  
In the cold light of day we're a flame in the wind  
Not the fire that we've begun

(Happier, Mershmellow)

"Make sure you always buy from Old Man Bao Rong for Jasmine because he's the only one that sells the ones that come from Sichuan."

The woman beside him nodded as she ventured a small peek inside the paper bag she was holding. She had looked a little bit confused when he had told her never to buy any other Jasmine leaves from other stores, no matter how much the vendors insisted that theirs came from Sichuan. He's tasted the tea made from their leaves before, and even though they did come close to Bao Rong's Jasmine, the subtle difference made seasoned teamakers like him sigh and lament on the lack of rich flavour.

A smile threatened to spill from his face at what his uncle would've said to him. He was becoming more and more like his uncle Iroh in that aspect, even though he had once blatantly insulted tea as merely hot leaf juice, which apparently, the old man found as blasphemous.

"What if he runs out though?" Yane asked with genuine concern in her voice.

"Then, don't buy," he answered simply.

"But won't the customers complain? I mean, majority of them order our Jasmine tea."

"The shop is called Jasmine Dragon," he shrugged. "They'll have to deal with it. They'd rather have other good tea than a Jasmine that's not the perfect, anyway. Besides, Bao Rong running out of tea is as rare as Tai Jia skipping a day of tea."

She snorted by his side, amused because Tai Jia almost never missed a day without visiting the shop.

They arrived in front of the shop's door a few minutes of silent walking later. Zuko had felt her attempting to start a conversation with the way she slightly turned her head to his direction countless times, which he had ignored, keeping his eyes glued on the path in front of him.

He fished out the keys from his back pocket and unlocked the door. The sound of the bells resounded in the empty room as the duo got inside, paper bags of tea leaves still dangling in their hands. Zuko walked straight to the pantry to deposit the leaves with Yane following close behind. He placed the bags on the table and waited for her to do the same.

"You know where to keep them, right?" he asked when she turned to him.

"Yep," she grinned, confident.

"Good. I'll just go out to get some toothpicks before we open the shop," he said, cocking his head to the direction of the tables.

"Why—" she started to ask but nodded instead, and Zuko wondered why she had always refused to ask him further questions when it was clear she wanted to know. He bit back the urge to demand her to spit it out, deciding that it wasn't worth it and stepped out of the room.

It's been weeks since Yane started working in Jasmine Dragon, and personally, he saw how much she had improved from the jittery and borderline clumsy waitress to the calmer version of her now. The light-haired woman still kept her guards up whenever she was with him, a pair of onyx eyes always wary and extremely careful each time he turned to address her.

Not that he could blame her.

Zuko had been none but hostile and cold.

When he opened the door to exit the shop, a woman came to his view and Zuko had to hold onto his barely existent patience to suppress the groan that threatened to pour out of his mouth.

The woman, on the other hand, misinterpreting his irritated scowl as panicked surprise, hacked a series of honky laughter, sounding strangely like a dying donkey.

"Zuko, boy, no need to be nervous about anything," she cooed like she was consoling a newborn. "I'm not going to check out my little Jasmine Dragon today. I just happened to walk by."

"Mrs. Wu," he deadpanned, leaning inches away as she reached out to ruin his hair.

"I told you to call me Aunt Wu," she chuckled good-naturedly. "How's our new bird?"

"Fine."

"Not giving you any trouble, is she?" the owner of the tea shop looked behind him in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the rookie waitress.

"Not much," he grumbled honestly. Other than her giving him more headaches than usual because of her irksome behavior, Yane did her job well. Most of the time, anyway. Zuko couldn't think of any complaints even if he had wanted to.

"Good to hear that, Son." She gave him a knowing smile, an unreadable one that was hitting some nerves in a way that's a bit uncomfortable. His only eyebrow scrunched forward to the midline.

The Jasmine Dragon owner had always been a little more eccentric than he'd normally encounter, and that was saying a lot since his constant bad luck forces him to come across the worst kinds of weirdos. Yet, it was rare to find someone who was willing to hire a grumpball like him, so he guessed it was fair enough. The Chinese-American woman was as patient as his uncle—that or she was just an airhead, which was more likely.

"Where are you heading?" she inquired as she folded her skinny arms together.

"Off to buy some toothpicks," he replied.

Her eyes twinkled at that. "I knew it. That's what I read from the fortune bones I burned a while ago, so I made sure to bring some for you."

She took out packets of toothpicks from her satchel before Zuko could fully weave his face into a puzzled scowl. Wu waved it in front of his gaping face and shoved them onto his hands enthusiastically. He examined the pack cautiously, as though he was holding a bomb that would detonate right in front of his face.

Wu laughed loudly at this display, and with a shake of the head, she said, "Still don't believe I can predict the future?"

She probably knew that they were running out of supplies, Zuko thought. It was that time of the month when there was a general restocking of all sorts of things, after all. Shopping had been a lot different this time, he realized just now. He had usually been alone, but now he had someone to tag along with him, to listen to the instructions he's long memorized and to actually express some interest.

Even though the woman in question had always kept her mouth shut around him, despite being a little bit chatty around customers.

"Need anything else, Son?" Wu queried when the silence bore down on them.

"No, n—nothing," he stammered, slightly embarrassed that he had spaced out like that. "Do you want to go in?"

"I've somewhere to be," she replied with a shrug. "Tell Shinayane I said hi."

"Yeah," he answered as she waved him off and went her way. Zuko stood his ground to shake the package of toothpicks, willing it to disappear into thin air before deciding that maybe Wu did predict the future.

Rolling his eyes in boredom, he turned on his foot and went back into the shop. The soft Asian background music filled his ears as he strode his way towards the tables to fill the empty toothpick holders with the new supplies. On his second table, he faintly noticed the song and realized that it was one of his mother's favorites.

The Moon Represents My Heart, he recognized with a not so subtle skip inside his chest.

The sun had always been the steady, resilient representation of their family. With a solid black flame insignia as their clan crest, the Hong Family stood tall in the business enterprises of China, literally burning down to ashes anyone who tried to pave their way to the top. Zuko couldn't deny that despite being thrown away like a useless rug, he yearned to bask in that glory that was supposed to be his by birthright.

An heir.

Too bad he was considered an undeserving defect by his own father.

His family thrived in power and influence. With one graceful flick of their hands, people fell into submission and did their bidding. Mighty, indomitable, fierce, like the sun. That was why he, as the young innocent boy he once was, had thought that his mother was a stark contrast to his family—like a white amongst the blacks, a delicate lotus in a fiery furnace, a serene moon in a row of mighty suns.

Zuko filled in the last cylinder with toothpicks before folding the plastic of remaining ones and tucking the pack under his arm. He was walking towards the pantry when something stopped him in his tracks, and he had to strain his hearing to listen to the sound intermingling almost imperceptibly with the song being played.

His narrowed eyes, both the undamaged and burnt ones, before widening them upon realizing that Yane was singing along with the lyrics. Zuko would've shrugged the thought off if she had only been humming the rhythm, or even mumbling incoherent Chinese syllables, but she wasn't.

"...的一個吻，已經打動我的心。深深的一段情，敎我思念到如今。(...kiss, has already touched my heart. A sentiment so deep, compels me to cherish it until today.)"

She was actually singing along with the lyrics with perfect pronunciation.

He felt his stomach do a backflip in the implication of that discovery alone. She knew how to speak his native language! All this time when he and Tai Jia, along with his band of tea-lovers, were casually talking about her, she had understood and had kept silent about it. A warm sensation crawled up to his cheeks and ears in stark embarrassment and humiliation.

Here he thought he had most of his verbalized thoughts, though few, about her private. No wonder it felt as if she was walking between eggshells around him.

Zuko came up to the door frame and stayed there, frozen with an opened-mouth stare as Yane continued to transfer the leaves in an airtight containers, completely oblivious of the pair of golden eyes staring through her back.

"你問我愛你有多深 ，我愛你有幾分。你去想— (You ask me how deep my love is, I love you a hundred folds. Go ahead and reflect—)"she went to an abrupt pause, the verse cutting off in the middle when she finally noticed his presence.

There was a split second of quietude between them, her face flushing beetroot red to match his, before Zuko snapped out of daze and made what seemed like an intimidating forward step to her direction.

Yane held up both hands defensively as he demanded, "You know how to speak in Chinese?"

To his surprise, she didn't deflate under his withering glance like the us

ual and answered back, "I do."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he prodded.

Half of her face twitched into a wince, and with a shrug of her shoulders, she said in a slightly dubious tone, "Because you never asked?"

He waited for her to elaborate more but she merely held his stare with a defiance that literally dared him to contradict her, or lash out on her. Zuko guessed that she did have a point. He had made it sure to veer away from any topics that opened up her or his life outside work, and that made it painfully obvious as to why she'd never share that detail about her.

Still. If she knew the language, then she could've used it to speak with the Chinese customers who had a difficult time giving their orders to her.

As if reading his mind, Yane shrugged again and explained, "I'm not very good at it, that's why I don't talk to our customers in Chinese. I feel like when I start speaking in Chinese, they'll start using those big, complicated words on me and I won't be able to understand it. So, I stick with a language I'm comfortable with. It kinda makes it easier for me to work."

"Then," he hesitated a little. "You understand the conversations?"

Yane seemed to know what he was talking about and flashed him a sheepish grin. "Just a little."

Zuko made a quick trip down his memory for any significant thing he might have said about her with Tai Jia. Other than him constantly ignoring Tai Jia's jeers, urging him to ask her out on a date, comments on how pretty the new Japanese waitress was and that Zuko could use some girls in his life, he couldn't think of anything. As far as he could recall, he didn't particularly say anything offensive about her, except that she was slow, sometimes careless and too timid.

That or he forgot.

Zuko must've looked so flabbergasted that she had to speak to fill the dead air, "It's okay, though. I mean, Tai Jia-san says really nice things about me."

Tucking the question of the suffix she added at the end of Tai Jia's name and dismissing it as a Japanese-thing, he blurted out an intelligent, "...Oh."

Yane rubbed her arm and looked away. When it was clear that Zuko wasn't going to move from his spot any time soon, she decided to proceed with the task she had left and started placing the containers in their respective cabinets.

He quietly watched her do her tasks, unsure of what else to do or ask, and finally, he sighed and made a move to walk out the room when she said, "My mom's Japanese, but she was born and raised in China. She met my dad there and well, yeah, here I am. Half-Chinese, half-Japanese hybrid."

"But you're from Japan, right?"

She smiled with something akin to pride. "Yeah, and you're from China?"

"Obviously," he grumbled as he crossed his arms. "The facial features are a dead give away."

"Chinky-eyed Asians look alike, mind you. I can't distinguish a Chinese from a Korean from a Japanese. And for the longest time, I always thought that maybe your 華語 was self-learned."

"Self-learned?" he echoed. "Do I sound like an amateur speaker to you?"

"Of course, not," she shot back almost too fast, looking slightly agitated and nervous that she insulted him. "It's just that I've been meeting a couple of Americans and people from other nations who know how to speak the language. I thought that maybe you were... I don't know, Korean who learned Chinese?"

Zuko raised his brow at her. Her tendency to babble hasn't gone unnoticed by him, and he had found it annoying, but now, it was just too ridiculous that it was almost entertaining. Yane let out a chuckle as she went back to work. He stared at her back before dropping his gaze to his feet as he considered leaving and changing to his uniform already.

"Why're you here in America?"

Her question made him falter, and the mere fact that she finally garnered enough courage to ask him something unrelated to work instilled mild shock in his demeanor. Zuko, for the first time in quite a while, went speechless. He didn't even know how to begin, and yet, even as the taboo topic for him was raised, he couldn't find it in him to suddenly put up walls like he's normally accustomed to doing. Not to mention, his identity was a secret he hid like a gruesome, atrocious scar, and that was something he could keep unlike the monstrosity forever etched on the skin of his face.

Yane turned her head at his direction, face a little troubled.

"How about you?" he asked softly.

She placed the last container beside the rest and turned her whole profile to him, her eyes not reaching his, however.

"I had problems with someone back home," Yane answered vaguely. "I chose to come here then, thinking that I could continue med school and perhaps work in Caduceus."

"You... ran away from home?"

"No, no," she denied with a few headshakes. "Not something like that."

Her story ended there. He could sense that there were more grimy details that she chose not to disclose and he'd respect that. But hearing those things about her made Zuko look at her like she was an actual person now. Not anymore just a colleague, but a human being who had her own issues, like him.

"I guess you can say we're similar," he said. "Except that it wasn't my choice."

"Ohh, uhm..." she began and trailed off, shifting from foot to foot and probably uncertain whether she was allowed to pry. "Do you... want to talk about it?" she finished awkwardly.

"No," was his fast answer.

"Ohh, okay. Well," she paused, and Zuko nearly smiled at the internal struggle that was emanating off of her like some sort of aura. "Do you live alone here? Like do you have your own place."

"I used to live with my uncle. But I kind of fucked up and," he scratched the back of his neck, humiliated. "Now I live alone."

"Oh, no, Lee," she lamented. "I hope you could fix it with him someday. He sounds like a good guy."

"Yes, he is—wait, how'd you know? I haven't said anything about him."

"You looked so sad when you mentioned him and your misunderstanding. I can only guess that he's probably been kind to you for you to... react that way."

They kept their eyes connected, each seeing the other in a new light for the first time. The comfortable silence stayed static in the air for a few more seconds until she smiled and said, "I'll go get changed. Can you check if I've done it right?"

Zuko's eyes followed her arm as she gestured at the cabinets. He nodded, and with that, she stepped out promptly before he could see the coat of moisture that started to fill her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Here's the second chapter. Aunt Wu is the fortuneteller from the show, yes. She has that huge aunt energy I see from the aunties I meet. I delved on Zuko's past here in this AU a bit. As mentioned, I'll try to make this AU in parallel with canon.
> 
> The translation of the song "Moon representing my heart" by Teresa Teng is my own, so forgive me if it isn't satisfactory. I tried OTL. My Chinese is rusty now (nope, it is not my primary language). Anyway, check the song out if you can. It's one of the classics Chinese from all ages love.
> 
> Next chapter will probably be next week. Review? Thanks for reading! ^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko is warming up to his part timer, but when the cat got out of the bag and she finds out his name wasn't 'Lee', things start blowing up again in his face.

A tiny ship, adrift in the silent evening calm, carries a traveler, wounded all over, and has become his cradle.  
His sad, sleeping face betrays that he won't let anyone approach him anymore.  
Not knowing where he is now, he heads directly northward, northward.  
Your hands, though they should be held, are empty, as though from the very beginning, you were never capable of ''being loved''.  
Always lost, no longer even able to go back home, only shouting, ''Save me!'' - though sadly, nobody hears.  
''I'm all alone...''  
I won't let you say things like that anymore.  
(Polaris, Aimer)

It’s funny how a person could literally transform—maybe deteriorate was a more apt term—in just a matter of hours. Zuko felt his frown deepen considerably with every sigh that escaped his colleague’s mouth as she buried her hand into her hair in wordless frustration. 

Exactly seven hours ago, Yane had greeted him with a bright smile as she had just finished making an inventory of their remaining supplies. He had nodded in approval and had turned the sign door from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. 

It was a busy day of Wednesday, and that usually meant less customers to badger them. He still had yet to figure out why Wednesday was the day when the shop was least frequented, but he was grateful because then, all he’d have to do was sit around and lumber around while reading some old Chinese novel or playing another game from his mobile. Which was why Yane was currently seated in one of the empty tables, books, notes, pens and highlighters arranged in front of her as she diligently read through them with a concentration that could bend spoons.

But that was a few hours ago. 

She’s deflated to soulless human carcass, her skin somewhat gray. The barista had no idea whether he was just imagining it, but he was sure the woman had looked strangely like one of those shuffling undead in a zombie apocalypse movie. He’s heard that taking up medicine was difficult, but he didn’t fully understand the meaning of that until he saw the life-sucking phenomenon that’s happening in front of his eyes right now. 

Rolling his eyes, Zuko went behind the bar and came back with a glass in his hands. He stood in front of her, who upon noticing him, raised her bloodshot eyes and flashed him a watery smile. 

He actually found himself wincing with how awful she looked.

“That for me?” she pointed at the beverage. 

“You could use some refreshments,” he eyed the two empty bottles of milk coffee meaningfully and scowled at her. “Don’t you know that too much caffeine can kill you? You’re a doctor.”

“I’m still alive, right?” she joked but shrank under his glare. “What is that by the way?”

“Dragonfruit and mango. It looks weird, I know, but I tried this before and it’s decent.”

“It doesn’t look weird,” she commented, dark eyes trained on the said drink. “It’s pretty.”

Zuko spared the half-red, half-yellow drink a glance, before giving her a one shoulder shrug and placing the glass beside her. He grabbed the two empty bottles and prepared to chuck them to the nearest trash can when she made a noise. 

“Mmmm, this is amazing, Lee! I mean, did you just invent this? Mix two unlikely fruits together and—“

“That’s a common combination in my home,” he cut her off, not missing the pint of disappointment that crossed her face. He smirked, “What, you think I’m that creative with drinks?”

“I thought it was special—oh, but I think this is special too, I mean, I thought—“

“Just drink it, Yane.”

She blinked at his rudeness, then pouted. “Thanks.”

“When’s this big exam again?”

Yane sipped on the fruit shake and let out a satisfied sigh. “On friday.”

“So you won’t go to work, then?” he asked.

“The qualifying exam’s only in the morning, but I requested for a whole day off. After that, I’ll be waiting for the list of interviewees again. I really hope I get in this time.” Yane folded her arms together and leaned over the table, eyes still glassy with exhaustion, directed to the window where the rays of sun seeped through. 

Yane had mentioned to him that she had attempted to work in Caduceus, had failed and was now giving her second and perhaps, last try in this. Zuko wasn’t exactly dubbed as a sensitive, feelings-sensing kind of guy. That was more of his uncle. Or Katara. But it didn’t take a sensitive person to see how much she wanted to get in Caduceus and work there as a doctor. Yane brimmed with so much passion it was almost tiring to look at her. And maybe, she, too, felt so spent and burned out, but she grinded on her own way even when she failed miserably. 

He pursed his lips into a thin line, his eyebrows knitted together. 

“You’ll fail many times,” he said out of the sudden, unable to keep the words from tumbling out his mouth. 

She lifted her head and pouted at him again. “Very inspiring.”

“No, wait, I’m not done yet—“

“I know, I know,” she waved her hand as though he was an annoying fly. “I’m going to fail a lot of times, but if I keep going, I’ll be successful in the end. Seriously, that line’s more applicable for young starters.”

He summoned a glare that would’ve cracked glass with its intensity, but the desired effect on her failed to manifest unlike before. He was rewarded instead with what seemed like a sweet smile.

“Thanks,” she finally said after seconds. The appreciative tone in her voice was unmistakable. “Means a lot to me.”

~ O ~

“What?”

Yane morphed her face into a sour expression, almost comically like how a cartoon character would in this situation. Zuko couldn’t honestly believe how the used to be reserved and shy girl, whose voice could only be heard if he strained his ear, had completely made a 180 degree turn and become the goofy, irritating, too cheerful but moody woman who drove him nuts. 

It was funny, thinking about how their dynamics had changed for the last couple of months. Yane reminded him so much of both Sokka and Aang combined. Sometimes, they were too similar that he had to do a back take to check if it was still the orange-headed half-breed and not one of his friends he had missed. 

Not that he’d ever admit that to their faces. 

“What’s with that?” she spat with a maniacal wave of her arms, gesturing at his face in a really uncultured manner. “I give you something and you thank me with that—that face?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my face,” he hissed. “And what’s with you suddenly coming up to give me food when it’s supposed to be your exam?”

“I told you my exam was in the morning. You weren’t listening, were you? You weren’t.” Yane shook her head and plopped herself on the seat beside him. 

Her gaze wandered around the store. Unconsciously, Zuko’s did, too. There were only a few customers, most of which were regulars who were accustomed to their unusual interactions. One angst-y, scarred Chinese and one childish, slightly tanned half-Japanese. 

Yep, your normal coffee and tea duo.

Zuko turned his attention back to her and said with borderline sarcasm, “You have this whole day off, in case you had too much in your brain that you forgot. Not to mention, Korra’s going to be here in a few minutes to cover your shift.”

“I didn’t forget. I didn’t have much to do before I go out and unwind this evening. Figured that you haven’t had lunch yet.”

His good eye widened at her words. He was fairly certain she was unaware of the puzzled look he was shooting her because she still had her eyes on their customers, but she read through him anyway. 

“Didn’t expect me to be a kind, thoughtful, beautiful young lady, did ‘ya?” she said good-naturedly, a half-smirk plastered on her lips. 

“Kind and thoughtful, maybe. Beautiful and young? I don’t see any.”

Yane pulled out one of those savage sneers of hers, upper lip curled over her teeth like an angered but helpless kitten. Raising her dirty finger, she muttered, “The nerve of you, dearest Senpai.”

Zuko merely gave her finger a sidelong glance, long used to her shenanigans and occasional Japanese lingo, the scar on his face deepening his scowl in perfect ways that made him more intimidating than he’d need to be. Not that it worked on her anymore. He found that each time they got to know each other more, the audacity to mock him blatantly and ignore him were pounding off of her like a breath of fire. Yane kept her solid glare on him before finally being the one to break the stare-off, taking the tumbler instead and shoving it forcibly to his chest.

“Come on. Don’t let my effort go to waste,” she urged. 

With feigned begrudge, Zuko walked over to the bar and sat down to open the lunch box. She loomed behind him as he twisted the cap open to reveal what was inside. Instantly, the aroma of broth and herbs came to drown his senses.

"Noodles?" he guessed at the translucent soup.

"I know the basic Chinese dishes at most. My mom cooks for us because she knows that Dad misses home. I kind of mixed up the recipes, did some variations and got help from a friend, who, well, kinda Japanized the soup." 

He averted his attention from the food to Yane who was studying the unreadable expression on his face. Coming to the US, Zuko became exposed to countless acts of kindness he was only ever able to experience from his mother and uncle back in China. He'd been uncomfortable and dubious in the beginning, often misinterpreting them as means of gaining his trust in order to manipulate him or use him. Regardless of whether he wanted or not, that was just the way he was raised and wired to think. 

It took a lot of getting used to and affirmation from his friends before he had finally accepted that there was truly such a thing as genuine benevolence.

Still, this somehow felt different from Toph's 'donations' and 'treats', or from Katara's own home-cooked food, or from Suki's gentle but firm chides about his 'self-destructive' tendencies. 

Zuko had no idea what this was.

Maybe he was just overthinking.

Yane stared glumly at him. "It's not poisoned, if that's what you’re worried about."

"You expect me to believe you?" he grumbled before grabbing a porcelain duck spoon and a pair of chopsticks by his side. 

Promptly, he picked up several strands of noodles, which he noticed looked a bit like soba noodles, and shoved them into his mouth with a great show of gracelessness. Without chewing or swallowing, he scooped some of the soup and sipped noisily, but all the act of trying to annoy her dissipated from his mind the moment he tasted the broth. 

There was definitely a not so subtle difference, but it was there—home.

His father's pipe smoke. His sister's blood red dresses. Mai's favorite lily perfume. Uncle's tea. Mom's special hot and sour shark fin soup. 

His airway was sealed shut, but not before the tight pain slithering past into his throat to reach out and squeeze at his heart. And just as fast as he let his emotions get the better of him, they faded away into a dull, aching buzz that left an uncomfortable thrumming in his heart. He could breathe again, but not without the sharp, stabbing sensation that came with each subtle rise and fall of his chest.

"Oh my," he didn't even register the soft gasp that escaped Yane until she leaned forward to look at him in the face. "Are you—is this acting? Or—why are you—oh my gosh—”

The panic that flared in her eyes snapped him out of his momentary reverie, and Zuko was left reeling in his place as she fumbled to fish out a hanky from her pocket to dab it across his wet cheek. 

Brimming with embarrassment, he jerked backwards with her second touch, hand flying towards the hanky in place of hers. He aggressively wiped off the tears that had smeared his face until his skin became raw and tender, reddened by both the friction and the stark humiliation that was currently roasting him from the inside. It didn’t help that he was wearing the signature olive green shenyi as his uniform today, making him feel hotter even in the midst of the cool weather. 

“Lee?” she prompted, gently, eyes completely focused on his face even though it was obvious she wanted to look at anywhere but him.

Normally, he would’ve instinctively snapped at her for having invoked such feelings from him and storm off. She had successfully unburied all the memories he so carefully filtered out of his mind—the best and the worst. 

How a single sip of soup could do that was beyond him. 

He contemplated just turning away and leaving, but not only did he know that it would hurt her, he also had that strange tug that urged him to open up, finally, to someone who seemed to have even the littlest of understanding about him. Zuko ventured a glance at her and heaved a sigh, yielding to his latter choice. 

“It tasted just like home,” he rasped, voice small and uncharacteristic. 

Yane’s tensed shoulders eased up a bit at his comment, her face softening along with her earlier rigid posture. “It’s exactly the effect I wanted on you. I’m sorry if you feel like I’m being nosy, but sometimes, you have this distinct, sad look on your face. Like you were missing your family.”

Zuko mulled over her words, the barely held back sentiments threatening to burn through his eyes again. He stared at the noodle soup for he didn’t know how long until a defeated sigh left his mouth, his rigid front mollifying just a bit. He managed a small smile that barely reached his eyes, but he knew Yane could easily pick up the sincerity in that gesture. 

“Takes one to know one, huh?” he voiced out, earning a surprised look from her. She might not have noticed it, but he, too, saw the subtlest slips of her masks when she thought no one was looking. And though those episodes didn’t even last more than ten seconds, the melancholy that came afterwards was so palpable to someone who’s closely acquainted to loneliness like him. 

Yane huffed lowly as she shook her head, probably to ward off some memories she was trying to suppress herself. “You go finish your lunch. I’ll tend to the customers.”

“But you’re not in uniform,” he objected, pointing meaningfully at her denim dress. 

“It’s not like they care. Besides,” she smiled mischievously, “It’s not like Madame Wu’s dropping by today.”

He wanted to contradict her, warn her about Wu’s regular, unscheduled visits in the Jasmine Dragon whenever she was bored, but he paused as she skittered away to take the orders from the newly arrived customers. Shrugging, he let her be. If Wu did come by for a visit, Yane was the one to face the music anyway. 

He held back a soft chuckle, the image of her yapping on him for not giving her a warning passing in his mind. 

Zuko grabbed the chopsticks, and with gentleness this time, picked up some noodles and began indulging himself with the food and the memories that came with it. 

~ O ~

It had grated at his insides constantly ever since he’s heard about it from one of the customers, and Zuko has been none but impatient for the rest of the day. The tight, constricting feeling that ran deep in his core suffocated him and denied him of adequate air. Everything else around him seemed to fade away in the background, and all that mattered to him that moment was to discredit the information he had just learned about. 

And now that Yane had turned the store sign to ‘closed’, he finally had the time to check the news from the internet and gather up the thoughts that were currently raging like a storm inside of him. 

He held his breath as the page started to load, tediously and painfully slow until the headlines flashed on the screen. 

The revelation was like an invisible punch to the gut, his heart sinking so lowly he felt as if it suddenly lost the ability to pump. Not to mention, the betrayal and hurt that swelled up inside him crippled not only his limbs but also his mind. Zuko hadn’t honestly expected this to happen so soon even though he knew, one way or another, it was all going to turn out like this. 

Like how his sister had always told him with those sinister amber eyes flashing with unspoken scorn and smugness. 

And now that the day has come, Hong Zuko, disgraced heir to the Agni Enterprises, disowned son of the proud patriarch of the most powerful family in China, officially lost his honor, his dignity, and everything else that mattered.

A sudden and strong wave of nausea surged through his innards and his hand flew immediately to his mouth, bile and whatever else acidic rising up his throat in a threatening manner. With great difficulty, he steeled himself to the restroom to retch out his lunch. His eyes stung as the stench hit his nose. He felt like screaming just for the hell of it, breaking everything else inside the room just so he could channel out the misery and self-loathing into something inanimate, but his hands stayed curled around the sink, his breathing ragged and uneven. 

There was a knock in the door, followed by a voice. 

“Hey,” Yane called out with apprehension. “Is everything alright there? Are you sick?”

Zuko counted to ten in his mind, trusting his voice to break if he spoke as he turned on the faucet and let the sound of gushing water echo instead. He splashed some of the cool water around his mouth, then, he replied a hoarse, “I’m fine.”

There was silence beyond the door, followed by soft shuffling, but he paid her no heed anymore and focused on the water that was starting to pool on the sink. 

He didn’t dare to look himself in the mirror. It wasn’t as if he looked at his own appearance often anyway. His scar, the epitome of his bane and his dishonor—it was something everyone stared at, judged and gaped at with a myriad of emotions he could no longer tell apart from. He hadn’t wanted to be reminded of that mark that he could never erase, but right now, just the prospect of even seeing his face again felt as if a new burn was going to sear off his flesh. Strip him off of what was left of him. Tear the last of his well-protected hope until it was nothing. 

“Open the door, please,” Yane called out again, her tone now pleading and severely troubled. “I want to help you.”

'Get a grip', a disappointed and hard voice that sounded much like his father rang in his ears, and by instincts, he straightened up as if he was electrocuted. Funny how even in his most disgraced position, he could still hear the voice of the person who wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Zuko ran a hand across his hair before he twisted the doorknob and stepped out of the restroom.

He knew he must've looked awful by the way Yane's face crumpled with a mixture of concern and wariness. She reached out to his shoulder, only to have her hand brushed off brusquely as he started darting his eyes around in search of his phone. In all his haste, he didn't remember if he left it on the table or dropped it on the floor. 

"Did you eat something bad?" she pressed on, her voice distant in his mind.

Maybe he just heard wrong. Read the article wrong. By some chance or miracle, maybe the tabloids had gotten the wrong information and that the news that his father was giving Hong Account over to Azula was a complete hoax. Him being officially and legally disowned was perhaps just a petty ploy of the competitors to smear over their family name, because it's happened before. They suffered defamation more than his fingers could count, but always, his father had his ways to clear out their names and come out unscathed—even stronger than before. 

"When I look at you, I wonder how you could possibly be my son. I am ashamed of having been part of such a failure as giving birth to something as worthless as you."

Yes, there was no way he'd be disowned right? After all, wasn't he sent away to the US to reflect on his treachery and foolishness as his father had dubbed it? To give him a chance to fix his mistakes and redeem himself? There was no way... no way—but that look on his father's eyes that fateful night, eyes that reflected caustic resentment that burned in ways he could never comprehend, it was as if Zuko was the filthiest lowlife in the world rather than his son. 

"You are my biggest regret, Zuko."

"Stop moving around—wait, calm down, hey... Lee! Please—"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" he bellowed, all the pent up frustration, rage and hurt all coming down like a hail from the sky. 

Yane staggered backwards in her step and the fear that he hasn't seen for quite some time crystallised itself in her eyes. She stood there frozen until the phone in her hands caught his sight. 

Eyes flaring madly, he quickly snatched it out of her grasp and yelled, "Stop pretending like you care or even know half of what I'm feeling! I'm so sick and tired of you coming to me, asking me if I'm okay when it doesn't even concern you!"

She recoiled further away from him like she was slapped, hard across the face, but to his surprise, she recovered all at once, a jaded look fixated on her face. "Is that what you really think of me?" her voice rose up and down a few octaves mingled with disbelief and a tinge of anger. "All fake smiles? All fake?"

He opened his mouth to retort, but she held up her hand and marched one daring step towards him.

She glanced down at his phone and continued, "And what do you call yourself? Pretending to be a tough, brooding and roughened man when you don't even go by your real name?"

His eyes widened to saucers and he swore a look of satisfaction passed by her expression. 

His good eye narrowed to match his burned one. "How did you—"

"I read your phone, and made a guess," she said it like it was obvious. "Look, if you're really this person, Hong Zuko? If that's who you really are, why were you even hiding it? From your customers. From Korra, Bolin, Mako, me? Is it because of this?" Yane gestured at his phone. "Lee—Zuko, it's not something you're supposed to be ashamed of—"

"Shut up," he hissed venomously. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"So tell me! Make me understand. I want to help you," she pleaded again. 

"This is none of your business, Yane."

"Please. Zuko.”

He didn't know whether it was because of the already brittle barrier he had built for himself, or because it's been so long... so long since he's heard someone call him by his real name—and it strangely felt so good, like a cool drink under the scorching and unforgiving weather, like a gentle caress to his scarred, hideous face—but that undid him from the inside out. He just felt so, so, so tired. Of everything. And if he could, he knew he'd cry and finally let those suppressed tears fall from his eyes, but to both his dismay and relief, he didn't. 

But Yane clearly saw the change, and she made no waste of time. She grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. He hadn't even realized he had been covering his scar with quivering hands. Reluctantly, he locked eyes with hers—fragile but strong at the same time. 

"You won't get it," he whispered, uncharacteristically weak. "You don't know what it's like to be seen as an eyesore. A nuisance to a perfect family picture. To be nothing but a disappointment to your own father. I tried so hard to win his favor even if it felt wrong to do the things that pleased him. I said hurtful things to my uncle even though he was probably one of the few people who even gave a damn about me. I left my girlfrie—ex-girlfriend without even as much as a goodbye. I betrayed all my friends. I just want to go home, but I can't. Because I'm a coward. I'm unworthy. I'm an asshole. I'm—"

"Stop," she commanded him with a squeeze of her hands around his wrists. Her touch was so warm it felt almost familiar. "Stop it. You can't keep on doing this to yourself. Whatever they say, or you say, you're a good person. I know. I've been watching you. I don't even know what to say to make you feel better. Words can't really stop the bleeding."

She chuckled at her words before shaking her head and gazing back at him. The look on her face—a bruised but soft smile, maybe a little too soft and understanding that it was unnerving. He felt an odd but not unpleasant flutter in his stomach. 

"All you have to know is that the people you said you tried to push away? Your friends, your lover, your uncle... They're still around. You can still make it up to them. And me... I know you said you think I'm insincere—"

He visibly winced at that, but she went on. 

"But I'm here for you. It may not be much, but hey, that counts for at least something. Right?"

A ghost of a smile made itself known on his lips and she rewarded it with a wider version of her own. There were traces of what looked like tears in her eyes and that in itself was a bit weird since it had been him who poured out almost everything heavy and rotten in his heart, but when she blinked, the glassiness of her eyes were gone. His little outburst hadn't exactly fixed anything in his life, but he felt tad lighter than he's ever been since he stepped foot on this foreign country.

For once, his honor didn't feel like it mattered much. 

And for once, the cold fire that sizzled in his core blazed up with yellow, red and orange cackles like the campfires he had enjoyed when he was a kid. 

Yane finally released his hands and shrugged, "So, this is an appropriate time to hug, huh?" She opened her arms wide. "Come on. I know you want to."

For a millisecond, he considered it—craved for it, actually. Instead, Zuko's small grin morphed into a teasing smirk as he crossed his arms in contrast to hers. 

Turning around and not paying heed to her gaping face, he threw over his shoulder, "Get back to work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi! Story is progressing already. As you guys already know, OC is kind of a fresh-grad doctor, has a past, is looking for a job and landed at the Jasmine Dragon where our favorite fireboy works as a manager/waiter. I hope I built the relationship slowly but meaningfully? Would love to hear your thoughts! 
> 
> As for the rest of the Gaang, we'll get to see them soon. So stay tuned and stay safe! Please review as you go! Thank you! :)
> 
> PS. I suggest you listen to the song I inserted above. Polaris sounds really good and the lyrics just fit this fic so well I’m so glad I found it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He musters up his courage and ask her out. Finally. Everything is perfect until Zuko finds out he wasn't the only one keeping secrets all this time.

Rekindling  
Chapter 4 

_You've got it all  
You lost your mind in the sound  
There's so much more  
You can reclaim your crown  
You're in control  
Rid of the monsters inside your head  
Put all your faults to bed  
You can be king again  
(King, Lauren Aquilina)_

Hong Zuko might not have been his father’s favored offspring, but he was Ozai’s son, nonetheless. 

And because of his heritage and the expectations balanced atop his head, he stood as his father’s representative in a number of meetings more than his hands could count, and although his sister had greater share in participation albeit with considerably praiseworthy results, he was never one to shy away from going head to head with the big shot executives of China. Even at a very young age, he had stood proudly, wearing his family's name like a badge on his chest, negotiating his terms and expertly swinging the tables around to their favour. 

By the standards of ordinary men, he could've been dubbed as successful and far more fulfilled than other people his age, but compared to his sister, his performance was nothing but lackluster and insignificant.

Zuko caught himself right there, shaking his head and pressing the thoughts about Azula in the deepest recesses of his mind. He didn't need anything that would shrink his self-esteem. Especially not now when he was about to do the unthinkable.

"Uhh... What did you say was that woman's order again?" 

He stiffened for a second and liquified just as fast, whipping around with a scowl already sewn on his face. "Weren't you listening when I was listing them down, Korra?"

The dark-skinned part-timer raised the wooden tray in front of her face like a shield. "Sorry! I was cleaning some spilled coffee when you were telling me."

"And whose mess was it you were cleaning?"

To her credit, Korra had the decency to look embarrassed, looking anywhere else but his face. Amongst his three part-timers, Korra was the most experienced, having started earlier than the two brothers Mako and Bolin. She was most of the time efficient in how she did her job, except now. He didn't know whether it had something to do with the argument he accidentally overheard between the brothers just the other day.

Zuko eyed the seemingly sulking teen and shrugged, deciding to just mercifully drop it for once. "Oolong and Chrysanthemum. Brown sugar at the side."

Korra nodded eagerly. "I'll get it. Thanks, Lee."

He waved at her to get on with it before removing the black apron and hanging it by his locker. Zuko waited for Korra's footsteps to fade away for a few seconds. Satisfied that no one would be disturbing him anymore, he adjusted the cuff that hugged his wrist, ran his hand twice through his jet black hair and let out a sigh. 

He steeled his willpower forward and whispered to himself, "Uncle, I'm about to do it."

Before he could back down and chicken out again, Zuko forced his legs to move and made his way to the pantry where the woman who’s been occupying his mind was. Her back was turned to him as she counted the rows of paper cups stacked in the cabinet, unsuspecting of the presence behind her. He took the precious few seconds rethinking his words, all the while reminding himself that he was— _had been_ the heir to Agni Enterprises. He had faced off with men and women far more daunting and intimidating than her. As a matter of fact, she was like a meek rabbit compared to ferocious beasts whom he had no problem conversing with before.

No, he wasn't nervous. 

There was no need to be nervous. He could and would do this.

"Uh..."

Yane jumped slightly like she was struck with a mild ground. Turning around, she looked surprised to see him standing through the doorway and the sight of her full profile successfully singed his brain circuits. He barely registered her walking towards him while she looked behind him. 

"Yeah?" she asked, still checking behind his back. "What's up, Zuko?"

"What are you doing?" he blurted out randomly, disoriented either from the sudden hijacking of his brain or because she had called him by his name again. It was a treat to him, since she had always been forced to call him 'Lee' with all the people around them. If he knew better, it was almost like she was well-aware of the effect it had on him and was advertently using it to her advantage. 

She raised her eyebrows when he kept his quiet, and only then did he notice that he had been staring. Creepily, if he might describe it. Zuko barely resisted the urge to smack his palm square on his forehead as he looked away. He ignored the heat in his ears and cheeks and silently begged that she wouldn't notice it.

"Checking our inventory like I usually do at the end of the shift?" she said with a voice that hinted at how utterly confused she was with his question. “You okay?”

"Oh, great. Just fine."

She crossed her arms. "Zuko..." 

"You're free tomorrow, right?” he interrupted. “It's your day off, and you didn't mention about going anywhere since you told me you wanted to take a rest."

"Yes?" Yane replied with a questioning tone, no doubt unsure where this was going. 

"You, uh, want to do an activity together?" Sokka’s old anecdote about asking a girl out spoke through him, much to his horror.

There was an abrupt and deafening silence that followed the aftermath of his sorry attempt to ask her out, the atmosphere plummeting as though someone had been struck by lightning. He failed. And that wasn't even the worst part yet. 

Yane stood there like a frozen statue, and Zuko worried that she had malfunctioned with the way her eyes seemed to flicker like the on and off lights he watched in horror movies. He didn't even know what it meant. She just stood there. Looking at him. Mouth slightly agape. 

He groaned loudly before he could even keep himself from embarrassing himself further, wishing he could just beat his head against the nearest wall. He was about to turn and end his misery when her hand shot out to his arm. 

He dared to look back at her and instantly regretted it when he found her dark pools of obsidian stare through his whole being. 

Slowly, as if he was a child, she asked, “Did you just ask me out on a date?”

Zuko narrowed his good eye to match his permanently squinted one, towering over her in a pathetic attempt to look intimidating. He guessed he only succeeded in completing his whole idiot get-up because a ghost of grin was now taking a more solid form on her face. 

“What if I did?” he muttered in a challenging tone. 

Her breath hitched, and he wouldn’t have noticed it if he had blinked for a second. Yane’s hand fell limply by her side, her eyes now fixated on her shoes like they were more interesting than him right now. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might take it negatively. Zuko had been so preoccupied in coming up with the best way to ask, to avoid looking like a total loser in front of her, but her feelings had never once crossed his mind. 

Yane knew his past like the surface of a deep lake, but he knew next to nothing about her. 

He screwed up. Again. 

Scratching the back of his neck, he said softly, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

She lifted her chin up with an unreadable glimmer in her eyes, her lips still slightly parted. Yane scratched her arm uneasily, a habit she was fond of whenever she was put on a tight spot. The internal struggle was clearly visible in the way she fidgeted under his gaze, and the silence set him into an uncomfortable position. Suddenly, he was made aware that they were alone in the most secluded room in the tea shop, with nothing but a few inches of space between them. 

Yane broke through his distressed reverie when she chuckled under her breath. She shook her head as if in disbelief and, “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course, I am,” he said, almost too gruff than he intended. 

He expected her to ask more questions, like why, why now, and why her. He wasn’t exactly a good guy towards her, and knowing the type of personality she had—bubbly but timid dissolved together in a complementary mixture—he could only guess that she'd be more open to dating someone gentle, sweet and light-hearted. 

Everything he wasn’t. 

So when she let out another skittish laughter, this time more audible and carefree, he felt a knot in chest loosen by a hundredfold. He never thought that the sound of someone’s laughter could be this therapeutic. 

“Okay, then,” she replied with a huge smile. She wiggled her eyebrows and then lifted a finger in front of him, “Just make sure to not fall in love with me too fast, okay?”

“Don’t dream about it,” he grumbled jokingly as she went back to work, a dirty finger now raised by her side. 

He felt his own lips quirk up a fraction of an inch. 

~ O ~

She had insisted that they meet in the restaurant. 

He didn’t know what to think of that since he was used to picking Mai up from her home whenever they went out on a date. He had insisted, but she, too, was stubborn with her idea of them just meeting up in a said place. Zuko had wanted to probe more but decided to just let it be. 

For now. 

He just couldn’t place the note of suspicion in his head, telling him that she was hiding something. Zuko pushed the glass door open, and the sight of her beaming face automatically erased all the questions that'd been keeping him up all night. The soft hum in his chest was unmistakable, and he traced back in time to figure out when it was exactly that he started feeling this way towards his colleague. 

“Have you been waiting long?” he asked as he slid over his seat across her. 

Yane wore a beige cardigan over her mint top. The combination of the colors of her get-up and her hair painted a picture of autumn in his mind. This wasn’t the first time he saw her out of her usual monochrome uniform, or her occasional female hanfu costume. She’s worn casual clothing several times already, but this felt more special. He wasn’t sure if it was all just in his head, but the thought that she was dressing up for him made his face a degree warmer. 

“Nah,” she waved dismissively. “I arrived only a few minutes earlier than you.”

“Do you have an order already?” Zuko eyed the menu resting under his elbow. 

“Oh no, I’m actually having a hard time choosing. There’s so much stuff here. So figured I'll just wait for you so we could, maybe, buy something for sharing?"

He skimmed through the list of American dishes which were already familiar to him. He's been here once before, when Sokka had invited the gang to the place because 'they serve legit, genuine meat'. Until now, he had no idea what 'legit, genuine meat' entailed, but he had agreed with his old pal back then. The restaurant's steak did not disappoint. 

"Do you eat anything?" Zuko asked for precaution as he raised an arm to call the waiter's attention. 

"Anything except internal organs," she replied with a funny face. 

"But you're a doctor," he pointed out.

"But they taste disgusting," she argued and stuck her tongue out. "Oh, and if you ordering steak, please make it well-done. I don't like bloody stuff."

He shook his head and scoffed, "Weakling."

She quietly waited for him to make his orders to the waiter, occasionally checking her phone or looking out. Yane jerked a little when he returned his attention towards her, tiny action making him frown. It wasn't as if he hadn't noticed her being stiffer than usual, a reminiscence of her older self when she had started working in the tea shop. The thought of returning back to square one irritated him, much as it had whenever she had timidly regarded him back before they had started to form a bond. 

Zuko wondered for a split second then whether he was behaving normally, or oddly like her. 

"Why are you like that?" he couldn't help but ask, and just as the words had come out, he immediately regretted them.

"Like what?" she asked.

No turning back now. "Like this," he gestured. "You used to be like this to me. I get that you were scared of me before. But now, you act like... like I don't know—nervous?"

An indecipherable look passed her expression, something that made him ease a bit because it was definitely a spark of her real self. Yane scratched her cheek and admitted, "Because I am. I don't go out on dates often."

He furrowed his brow. "This is your first?"

"No, of course not," she shot back, slightly offended. "But I've only ever gone out with one guy."

One guy? Now that was intriguing. Not to be judgmental, but in Yane's age, most women had usually dated more than one man at least. He shook off the thought a few seconds after. Yane wasn't the usual woman. He knew she was different from the moment she had first entered the tea shop in her dress shirt and black apron. Still, Zuko couldn't help himself from wondering if there was more to her answer than it was. 

As he was quietly contemplating asking her, she tucked a hand under her chin and asked, "Well, since we're already talking about it. What about you? Do you often go out on dates?"

From the corner of his eye, he watched her other hand reach for the handle of her cup—an apprehensive gesture, still. He chose to ignore it this time. "Before Mai, I met with a couple of ladies for work. I arranged dinners with them to get to know how they think in the lines of business and work. Gather information about their firms, at the same time, I try to get on their good sides. It works most of the time—"

He faded midway his sentence as realization washed upon him like a cold shower. What was he thinking? Telling her all these things that painted him as a manipulative bastard. She wasn't part of the business world. Someone like her wouldn't understand it the way people like him did.

"I—" he started as he rubbed the back of his head unconsciously. 

"I don't think those count as dates, though," she laughed it off. "I'm talking about real dates. Like going out because you want to get to know each other, or enjoy each other's company."

_Oh._

"A girl invited me once," Zuko shrugged after giving it a thought. "Jin frequented Jasmine Dragon twice a week and always ordered nai cha. I also had lunch with a Korean girl. Song owns a small inn a few blocks from our shop. They serve the most delicious curry I've ever tasted."

Just when he started wondering if he'd shared too much, she hummed, "They invited you out? Well, no question there."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded jokingly as the waiter placed their plates on the table. 

"Thank you," Yane smiled politely at the waiter before shifting back to him. "I mean, you are good-looking and all, even when you're as grumpy as a menopausal woman."

Torn between feeling flattered and insulted, he kept his mouth shut for her to continue as he began slicing the slab of beef in front of him. Focusing on the steaming gravy made it somewhat easy to keep his face from reddening. Yane looking away also helped him with that.

"How did it go?" 

Zuko transferred a slice of the beef on her plate. "Good. I mostly went because of Wu's constant nagging of me to get a life outside the tea shop. But I had a good time."

"You didn't pursue any of them?" 

"I wasn't over Mai at that time," he replied honestly. "I felt like it was unfair to them if I tried to keep up with a relationship I know I can't give my whole self to."

She dropped her eyes just as he lifted his to gauge her reaction. She opened her mouth, but instead of responding, she shoved two pieces of fries in it and chewed slowly, obviously trying to stall. 

"Then, this—" she twirled her finger in imaginary circles encompassing them both. "This, uhm, this dating—wait, this is a date, right?"

He raised his brow. "It is," he confirmed, then sighed. "Look, I know what you're thinking. You're different. No one forced me to ask you. I wanted to. And I know it doesn't seem like it, but I'm getting over Mai. I think I might be already."

It was her turn to arch her brows in a show of doubt as he silently wondered whether those words that just came out of his mouth had spoken the truth or not.

He placed his knife down and urged himself to say, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I'm still in love with her."

"Whoah, there, cowboy," Yane raised her hands up. "I'm not asking you to get over her, or anything like that. I just want to make sure that this date isn't forced, like you've said. The last thing I want to be is to become a rebound case that you put on your wound like a bandaid, because that will definitely suck... and hurt."

He narrowed his good eye to match his burnt one. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Just a thought."

"Get it out of your pretty head," he favored her an irate scowl and stabbed the meat with more than adequate force as if it had offended him. "I'm sure of this. I'm willing to try again, and this time, I don't want to mess up."

He took the beef in his mouth and chewed with a frustration of which he didn’t know the source of. The savory taste quelled his rising temper, and he kept on eating until he noticed that Yane had not responded to him at all. 

Swallowing, he flickered his gaze to the girl in question, who, to his surprise, was staring back at him with something akin to awe—yet another thing he wasn’t used to seeing people wear in front of him. She smiled widely at him when she finally caught his glance, a reddish blush brightening up her cheeks and ears.

“Didn’t I tell you not to fall in love with me on the first date?” Yane teased cheekily despite looking quite embarrassed herself. 

Zuko cocked his chin smugly. “Shouldn’t I be the one telling you that?”

Yane made a show of dramatically rolling her eyes and heaved an equally dramatic sigh. Resorting instead to keep her quiet and what was left of her reputation, she busied herself with cutting the steak. But to his utter childish glee, the blush in her face never left up until they finished their food and decided to leave.

~ O ~

“And I think if you meet him, there’s totally going to be war because you're both impatient and hot-headed, and no offense, because you do have pretty good muscles—“

How shameless could this girl get?

“—but I think he’ll take you down with one move.”

Instead of getting rightly offended with her words, Zuko chuckled under his breath as he placed a hand on her shoulder to steer her away from the hurried woman twice her size bulldozing past them. He could see the tint of sunset bathing her face and hair, accentuating her scarlet locks as they made their way to the staircase. 

He couldn’t believe that the day was already ending. Zuko never knew that time could fly that fast to a point that she had to remind him that she needed to go home by sundown. He had teased her about strict parents but Yane had shrugged the joke off and said she had some chores to do. 

They had spent their time walking around the nearby bazaar she had wanted to go to and had bought a couple of dresses and tops on sale. He had wanted to see her try some of them on, but to his disappointment, places like these had few dressing rooms and most of the time, according to her, they were packed. Zuko would’ve started to get bored by the time they had reached the fourth stall but she had kept up with her lively anecdotes about her home, her friends and her career. 

At one point, she had stopped midway her blabbering and had glanced his way to ask about his friends and family. The unease in her face told him everything, because even if he had already opened up a bit to her about his background, the topic of his past was still a taboo to him. As usual, Zuko had playfully nudged at her side and had told her to drop it. Talking about his failures in the past was just going to kill the mood, after all. 

“How’d you know I have good muscles?” he asked, curious.

“I mean I can see your arms when you wear the short-sleeve uniform, right?” she stated like it was obvious. 

“But I can’t take on your favorite coffee and tea shop owner.” 

“That’s ‘cause he was an ex-criminal turned police operative, then retired to manage a cafe. So, I think he's quite well-versed with all sorts of martial arts. Like the moves you see in action movies."

He walked her to the ticket machine. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Beats me,” she grinned as she tapped on the touch screen to choose her destination and refill her card.

Turning sharply to her, Zuko was about to berate her nonchalance over hanging out in a coffee shop owned by thug when a thought occurred to him. 

“You said you went to Teiko Middle School?” 

Yane procured her now loaded card before meeting his gaze. “Yes.”

"Do you know someone by the name of Akashi?"

She blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. He was our student council president. Also our batch valedictorian. Why?"

"You weren't friends with him?"

"Friends, yeah." she said. "But we weren't that close. Wait, why do you know Akashi-kun?"

Said redhead's face flashed through his memories, and the most vivid of the images he had of Akashi Seijuro was the way his magenta irises had reflected the same sentiments he had kept on his own. Zuko had only talked with him briefly for a business contract, but he could remember it as clear as the day. 

The banished heir wasn't sure if he had just imagined it back then, but somehow, he knew that the younger Akashi was like him in some aspects. He wasn't certain whether he was right or wrong.

"I met him and his father in one of our meetings. Usually, it was just his dad, but I saw him once when I came to Japan for a deal."

"Oh? You've been to Japan?" Yane piped up excitedly, walking towards the toll gates.

"Once," he shrugged.

They stopped a few meters from the gates. Yane lifted her head to look at him, the traces of her smile now only visible in her eyes. 

"See you at work?" she chirped.

"I guess," he replied, his voice a little scratchy, he noted. 

"Thanks for today, Zuko," her eye-smile reached her lips this time. "I had so much fun."

He rewarded her with a half-smirk as she waved at him and started to move. His gaze lingered on her back when suddenly he remembered. 

"Yane, wait," he called out. She swivelled around and caught sight of the paper bag he lifted in front of her. "You forgot your stuffed toy."

It could've been just a trick of the eye, or another of his imagination, but he saw it—her eyes brimming abruptly with a multitude of emotions that came fast in a blur. The train behind her zoomed past, blowing her hair to her face and obscuring her eyes from his view. He swore he saw her posture go rigid as she shifted her gaze from the package to his face. Her expressions stilled, and before he knew it, she was making her way back to him. 

"What's the matter—"

"Zuko," Yane intoned. Something in her voice told him she wasn't just going to thank him for reminding her of her stuff. She took in some air and released it in a melancholic sigh, her eyes now shut tightly. 

"What's the matter?" he repeated, more urgently this time. 

"There's something I haven't told you," she said and dropped her eyes. "You've been honest with me about your life and your real identity. You... asked me out on a date." She smiled, pained but still sweet. "And I don't know if it's just me, but I'd want to go out again—"

"We will," he interrupted her. "I'm going to ask you out again, and—"

"No, listen," Yane was the one who cut him off this time. There was steel in her voice which knocked him off guard. "That's why I want you to know something about me. Something I've also kept from all of you."

He gulped and realized that his throat had gone uncomfortably dry. 

"Can you come home with me?" she said as she pried off the paper bag from his hand. "I need to show you something."

~ O ~

Yane had been quiet all throughout their trip, her eyes always averted to anywhere else but his own, questioning ones. Zuko was impressed, least to say. Ignoring his searching stare when they had been standing face to face for almost half an hour wasn't an easy farce. 

The bullet they were on wasn't full, but there were no free seats. Yane had taken her position, leaning next to the door with Zuko securing their spot. People jostled their way into the train whenever the doors slid open and he had to make sure that her small frame would be spared from being accidentally squished into a mass of bodies way taller than her. 

He had been a bit uncomfortable with their close proximity, but Yane did not seem to mind. That or she did a good job keeping a straight face as she continued to stare, unseeingly, at anything behind him. 

A few more minutes and they finally arrived at their station. The walk from the station to her home only took about five minutes, and he had been half-expecting her to start talking to at least disturb the stale air that was hanging dead around them. But it was only when she stopped walking, in front of what he assumed to be her house, did she turn to him and finally made eye contact. 

The mere gesture made his heart skip a beat, his mind reeling with anxiety and anticipation. To say that he wasn't at all worried was a lie even he could not come up with. What was it that she was hiding? Was she actually a serial killer, plotting to befriend him from the start before trapping him after one date in her basement for a long, gruelling torture session? It would make sense then. Her friendship with the underground "ex-"criminal and man-slaughter expert now turned peaceful tea shop owner would support that hunch. 

Zuko has seen those types of suspense-thriller films in his spare time. The morbid images of bloodied, grotesque, disfigured faces of the victim of a psychopathic killer flooded his thoughts. 

He shuddered, and much to his chagrin, she noticed.

"Cold?" Yane looked at him strangely.

"No, I—"

"Zuko, you look like you've seen a ghost," she simpered, her laughter snapping him out of his incredulous ideas. 

"Don't be silly," he bit back angrily, face flushing. "What did you want to tell me?"

His question sucked out the cheerful demeanour she had. She tore her eyes away from him and looked onto the door of her home. "Before that, I have one request," she said in a somber voice. 

"What?" he voiced out impatiently.

"Please refrain from asking any questions until I tell you it's okay. I just want you to act like your normal self, or better yet, do your best to be polite. Just wait for a bit, and I'll explain everything. I'll tell you everything you want to know. I promise."

Zuko furrowed his brow and gave her a hard stare. "I'm not liking any of this, Yane. You're not making any sense, but fine. Whatever it is, just show me."

She flinched at the tone he used but nodded curtly before ambling towards the entrance. He saw her shoulders rise and fall in a deep sigh. She squared her shoulders then and inserted the key into the knob to push the door open. He had to wait for his eyes to adjust from the sudden, blinding light that illuminated their figures. His ears picked up a voice of a child before catching sight of a blond kid scampering towards them, colliding with Yane with the sound of laughter filling the atmosphere. 

"'Ka-chan!" he squealed in delight as she knelt down in front of the child. 

Zuko couldn't see her face with her back towards him, but the inexplicable adoration and joy practically emanated from her like a heat from a flame. He felt his heart gallop again in what felt like an unsteady rhythm, the truth slowly dawning upon him as he continued to watch the scene unfold before him.

"How's my little man?" she cooed, planting a couple of kisses on the child's face. "I have something for you."

Yane presented the paper bag containing the carrot stuffed toy she had spent 30 minutes choosing. The boy's face glowed at the gift. 

"Did you have fun at school today?" she inquired as he took the bag and thanked her.

"Yah! I played ball with Chris and Tanner," he exclaimed proudly, the carrot already trapped between his arms. 

"Tell me about it later okay?" Yane turned her head to regard Zuko, a silent message exchanging between them. "Ko-chan, this is my friend, Lee. What are you going to say?"

'Ko-chan' craned his neck to give him a wide-eyed stare. An equally wide smile stretched his lips from one ear to another as he waved. "Hi, Uncle Lee."

"...Hey, kid," was all that got out of his mouth. He wanted to say something more friendly. He knew he could, but for this moment, there wasn't anything he could think of. Yane had left with him too many things to process. Zuko found that he couldn't get his brain to be functional again even if he forced himself.

Yane chuckled lowly in her breath, an appreciative smile adorning her lips as he struggled for things to blurt out.

"Oi, osoi desu. Doko ni itteta ka? (Oi, you’re late. Where have you been?)"

Startled by the new, baritone voice, Zuko tilted his head to meet the crimson gaze of the towering giant approaching them. That was saying a lot since Zuko himself knew he wasn't in any way short. Maybe shorter than many Americans living in the States, but definitely above average in his hometown. 

The man, looking nearly baffled as he, gawked at him for a while before looking pointedly at Yane, demanding for answers with the glare now assembling itself on his face. 

Sensing the tension, Yane got to her feet and continued to speak in English. "Taiga, this is Lee. The coworker I was talking about. Lee, this is Taiga, my best friend." 

Taiga had a raging, two-toned dark red hair that matched his garnet irises. His muscular build completed his whole delinquent look, and if Zuko would have to take a guess, he'd think Taiga was one of those gang leaders who had terrorized the student body and had wreaked havoc in high school. And what was up with those split brows? 

Looking already formidable to begin with, Taiga further straightened his posture and looked down on him as if trying to prove a point. 

"Hey," Taiga called out coldly, bordering towards hostility.

Any normal guy in his right mind would've cowered back slightly at the hidden threat embedded in just that one word, but Zuko's dealt with people with greater antagonistic air around them. So he held his gaze easily, chin now cocked up with the well-polished pride displayed without restraint. 

"Hey," he greeted back. 

The silence was left among them for he didn't know how long. It was Yane who broke the stare-off as she gently nudged Ko-chan to the direction of what Zuko guessed to be the dining room. 

"Baby, go eat dinner with your Oji-chan," she said. Then, "Taiga, I need to have a word with Lee here for a moment, okay? Can you please watch Ko-chan?"

Taiga gave her a look that literally translated his disbelief over her words. Even though he's just met him, Taiga was almost completely readable. His concern over Yane's well-being written all over his frown, Taiga begrudgingly complied when she glowered at him and went on to usher the tiny kid who now latched on his leg. Once they were out of sight, Yane tucked her bangs behind her ear and released yet another weary sigh.

"Come on," she said without looking at him and strode deeper into the house.

Zuko followed her until they reached the backdoor. She shoved the door and got out. The patio came to his view, and though it was dark outside, the vintage-looking lamp that sat on the marble table in the middle shed light to the flowers and greenery around them. Yane tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie and pulled him towards the garden bench where they sat down in each of its ends.

"You can start asking now."

Yane's hands were folded on top of her lap and like earlier, she avoided his gaze religiously. 

"Ko-chan," he started with hesitation. "Is he yours?"

She made a noise that sounded like an in-between of a chuckle and a huff. "Kosuke. That's his name. Looks nothing like me, huh?"

"He looks nothing like Taiga, too," he remarked dryly.

She blinked and peered at him inquisitively. "Because they're not related. Wait, you think Taiga's the father?"

"No," he replied through his teeth. It was getting harder and harder to reign his temper. "That's why I said they don't look alike. Why—how come you never told me about this? I thought you lived alone."

"I never said that," she crossed her arms. "I only said I left Japan and decided to stay here."

He wasn't to blame for assuming that. Anyone who heard the way she had told him about it before would've thought she went alone, too. Zuko quietly fumed at his ignorance, and Yane took his silence as a sign to continue.

"I'm sorry," she lamented, eyes downcast and ashamed. "For keeping it from you. I never thought you'd ask me out. I always thought that we'd be just normal friends, so I never thought of telling you about my son. I didn't want to talk about him with anyone, because doing so would also call me to explain my past with Kosuke's father."

He gave her a sidelong glance, his expression softening.

"He and I had been in a relationship for six years. We started out as friends, to best friends, then to lovers. Quite a typical relationship. And I loved him so much."

He looked away from her face and busied himself with fixing the sleeve of his hoodie. 

"I loved him too much," she went on, oblivious to his sudden discomfort. "I didn't know when or how, but I started hating him for the change I saw in myself. I was starting to conform to a version of me that I thought he and the world would've wanted better. I hated looking at the mirror and seeing an imperfect woman. I hated myself as much as I hated him. I was starting to lose myself.

"So, I thought that maybe I could do something to save this relationship. I made love with him even though I promised never to have sex outside marriage. It was a foolish decision, because not only did it fail to restore us both, it made me so disgusted with myself. I cheated on him, so that I could have an excuse to break up with him."

Yane wrapped her arms around herself. He wanted to reach out to touch her, just for some form of reassurance, but his limbs were locked frozen in place and he couldn't bear to take his eyes off the tragedy in front of him even when it hurt to watch her. 

"Things got worse after that. He broke, and so did I. I decided to keep Kosuke from him and left for the US. Shintaro-kun helped me. He was the one who handled everything for me. Taiga, on the other hand," she paused as a tiniests of smiles broke through her earlier agonized face. "Was the one who took care of us. Ko-chan doesn't know anything about his father, and I plan to keep it that way."

Leaning back with her head thrown backwards, she finally took on a relaxed posture, having poured it all out to him already. Zuko knew he was supposed to say something—anything, about her story, but for the umpteenth time that day, he couldn't articulate any words that could describe what he was feeling, or what he was thinking. It was as if everything she had just shared paralyzed his thoughts, and now he was just left there with so much things to comprehend. 

"Do you have anything else you want to know?" Yane murmured.

Zuko closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did things have to be this complicated for him all the time? He exhaled loudly and bit back a groan of petulance. 

No. It was actually quite simple this time.

He grunted as he got up. Yane whipped her head alarmingly at his direction.

"Is that all?" He stretched his arms. 

A pang of hurt passed her features. "When you say it like that..."

"I'm going home," he announced and headed towards the door, fully expecting her to tail behind him.

The kid and Taiga were nowhere to be found. They must still be in the dining room eating dinner. Zuko spared a glance to where the two had gone earlier before shrugging. He'd just have to ask the woman beside him to give his regards. He walked towards the main exit wordlessly.

Yane pushed the door open for both of them, the wind that kissed his cheeks a little too chilly for his taste. 

"Zuko—”

"Are you free again? Next Saturday?"

He couldn't see her, with his focus trailed in front to the small street, but felt the shock that overcame her as she snapped her head sideways. 

"Yes, but…” she faltered.

"But?"

"Are you okay with all this? I wouldn't get mad if you wanted to stop seeing me. We could go back to normal... if you're okay with being friends again, that is."

"It doesn't matter," he groused and shook his head. "None of what you've said does." Zuko stepped around to come in front of her. Gold mirrored jade as he stared at her with such intensity she began to shrink under his gaze. 

"I like you," he admitted, her eyes widening in response. "You having a kid doesn't change that. And since he's important to you," it was his turn to rub the back of his neck shyly. "Then I'm willing to accept him, too." 

It felt like Earth just stopped moving around them, like the hand of the clock halted its ticking and stayed like at, freezing everything else like a statue. The only signs of this reality were the grateful glow welling in her eyes, her uneven breathing and her flushed face. 

When she smiled, the world came back to life.

"For a moody guy, you sure are smooth. Thanks, Zuko.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Korra here! Hope you liked her cameo. And I hope you're okay with the cameos of the 2 characters I included. They're from Kuroko no Basuke. Don't worry. They won't appear much! Just some mentions here and there for the plot.  
> Hope you're doing okay! Reviews will be appreciated! ^^


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Zuko's birthday and he's expecting a surprise from her. He doesn't know if he's supposed to be pleased.

_And since you've always done that for me,_  
Just for you,  
I'd like to become Polaris.  
(Polaris, Aimer) 

_  
___  


“Lee?”

Zuko tilted his head slightly without looking at her, hands still busy with the chopping of strawberries. 

The question of why she was calling him by his fake name again was tucked at the back of his mind as he silently grumbled under his breath. The surplus ingredients he had right now were meant to be part of the dishes he was going to prepare for his birthday. He couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed that his favorite co-worker hadn’t done anything grand, or at least, given him a greeting and a bonus of a well-deserved kiss on the cheek. 

They’ve been dating for almost a year now. Given her track record, he’d say that he was anticipating her to do something. She never asked about his birthday, so he assumed she’d check his bio-data in the resto files or something. Come the day itself, she went on with their daily ruse—oblivious and too normal for his taste.

His lips tightened when he realized where his thoughts were going. 

No. They were just dating. They weren’t even a couple yet. He shouldn’t and couldn’t demand that from her, especially when he didn’t know when she’d one day wake up and find out how much of a crap he was standing right next to someone like her.

Yes, a safe distance should still be wedged between them. For her, and his sakes as well.

Shaking his head imperceptibly as he chucked the sliced strawberries onto the bowl, Zuko directed his frustration to the task at hand. He bitterly whisked the whipped cream with eyes flashing with cravings for the mouthwatering dessert he was making.

He hoped they’d still have some ingredients left for a small treat. He would’ve enjoyed the look on her face once she found out she missed his birthday. 

But, he bitterly thought, with the rate those self-entitled, spoiled customers were going, he thought he might have to leave the shop to buy additional ingredients from the nearby market. 

“What do they want now?” his question flew like a tired gust from his mouth. 

She smiled apologetically and waved her tickler. “Seaweed eggdrop soup with few salt, beef and seafood mixed stew, all-vegetarian sandwich, strictly no eggs or dairy products because ‘people don’t usually get the difference between vegetarians and vegans’, follow up on the strawberry shortcake—”

“Yane,” he cut her off when he felt the artery in his temple throb. “Did you tell them those aren’t on our menu?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “But the other one said we’re famous for our hospitality, and that he heard we’ll do our best to cater to their needs.”

“I don’t think they’ve the decency to know when to stop,” he spat, rummaging through the remaining stuff he had. 

There was a brief pause with only the sounds of plastic bags rustling disturbing the atmosphere. The soft Chinese melody still played, but with each second, he felt as if his patience was quickly evaporating into the air and leaving him more agitated. 

“I can help,” she finally offered, perhaps sensing the volatility he was exuding off at the moment.

“No,” Zuko replied. “If I go out there, I might end up strangling our customers to death. I imagine Wu won’t take homicide in her tea shop lightly.”

“I guess not,” she chuckled. 

“Is that all?”

“Err, not really.”

“What?” he snapped with a whip of his head to her direction, his eyes flaring as his patience ran its last mill. 

She rubbed her arm and chanced a glance towards the dining area with an uncertain look on her face. “They requested barbecue, steak, burger, bacon, baby backribs,” she enumerated before changing the tone of her voice as she made air quotes, “‘One of those famous ching-chang-chung-ling you Chinese are famous for.”

There was a split second pause, a tiny bit of time that the air froze in the atmosphere, as though the hands of the clock had just decided to freeze on their own accord. The tranquility that lasted for that small speck of time vanished as he dropped the bags with an unceremonious thud on the ground, the temper he was trying so hard to reign earlier breaking to half.

She scooted out of the way when he stomped his way to the dining, probably too afraid to even call him out to calm down. 

It’d be easy. He knew how to fight. He was taught to know martial arts as a kid for a reason he’d rather not know, and he was actually considered to be pretty good at it—that was, if you don’t count all the humiliating losses he had when fighting against his sister. 

Now, to deal with those scumbags who unfortunately decided to ruin his birthday—

He stopped dead in his tracks just as he had puffed out his chest and straightened his spine. Blinking rapidly as if to ward off any illusions before him, he found himself slack-jawed and suddenly very, very soft inside. 

“You—“ he began to blurt out. 

“Zuko, buddy,” Sokka, because it was indeed Sokka in the flesh, greeted him brightly but also wistfully. “Long time no see.”

Squinting his good eye, the banished heir tried to convince himself that this was just another of those dreams he'd wake up from a few minutes from now and leave him reeling with longing and regret in his bed. A few more seconds of staring game passed, and to his surprise, Sokka was still seated in one of the teashop's chairs, his arm slung lazily at the back of the chair, easygoing smile still plastered in his tanned face.

"Always a pleasure to leave the audience speechless," Sokka breezed out, "But try not to stare—"

"Hey, Zuko!"

His eyes averted to Sokka's right where he finally noticed the rest of the gang surrounding the table. Zuko continued to stare at Aang like he was a ghost, blinking rapidly and still disbelieving. Katara and Suki waved at him, while Toph's toothy grin widened as she perhaps acknowledged his flabbergasted state, still glued to where he was standing.

It was Yane's soft tap on his shoulder that seemingly slapped him back to reality at hand. Turning rather slowly, he met with her dark eyes, a sense of desperation intermingled with anxiety reflecting from his own. He found himself relaxing a bit at her presence as she gave him a gentle nudge of encouragement.

"I'll take it from here," Yane told him softly as she gestured to the kitchen. "I already talked to Aunt Wu about closing the shop for this day and she said 'yes', so there's no need to worry about anything. You just take your time with your friends."

So many questions ran through his mind, but gave her a nod and decided to reserve them for later. 

She flashed him yet another encouraging smile before turning on her heels and heading for the work he left behind. Clearing his throat, he ambled towards his—friends? Did he still have a right to call them friends even after the traitorous deed he did, even after them accepting him, even though he—

“Sit beside me, Sparky,” Toph, sensing his growing discomfort with amusement, pulled the chair that squeaked in protest. “No worries. We won’t bite.”

Despite himself, Zuko managed his trademark scowl and took his seat between Toph and Katara. He immediately sneaked a peak towards Katara just to make sure she wouldn’t try to deliberately stab his eyes—his good eye, with those wooden chopsticks and risk losing his vision forever. 

“So, uh, nice to see you all doing—good, I guess?” he said with uncertainty bordering towards pained unease. Zuko tried to look at each one of them but ended up avoiding their eyes as fast as he had laid his gaze on them. Focusing instead on Aang, who was the only one who wore a very innocent and plain expression, he resisted the urge to cower back in the kitchen. 

“Great to see you, too, Zuko!” he greeted back, not a little bit of wariness in his tone. “It’s been a while. You haven’t changed a bit.”

He visibly flinched at that, and immediately, Aang recognized his error. 

The monk scratched his bald head and simpered awkwardly, “You still look dashing as ever.”

There was a snort from his right. “Nice save, Aang,” Katara muttered. 

Zuko exhaled through his nostrils. “Why are you all here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Toph pitched in, fingering the icing of the chocolate cake before licking her fingers with much gusto. “It’s your birthday. We may have had a fall out, but we didn’t forget.”

“She’s right,” Suki agreed, giving him a half-smile that was both warm and guarded. “It’s a perfect time to talk and set things right, don’t you think? It’s been a year.”

Sokka swallowed, little crumbs of the fish crackers around his mouth. “Besides, we wanted to see the girl who’s got you to wear googoo eyes like that.”

He flushed at Sokka’s remark, instinctively tilting his head to where Yane was and somehow hoping that she’d make some excuse to call him back to the kitchen. When it was clear that no one would be providing any form of rescue for the severely embarrassed and now scattered-brain Zuko, he quietly pulled at the sleeves of his shenyi and leaned forward. 

“You’ve met Yane,” he simply said, his features softening at the mention of her name. 

Sokka whistled but made no mention of his demeanour. “She’s nice. Helped us set this meeting.”

“Did you meet her here?” Aang asked.

“She’s only a part timer in the shop while she’s trying to land a job in Caduceus.”

“She’s a doctor?” Katara queried, addressing him for the first time. 

“Yes,” he beamed proudly. 

“She seems like a really sweet girl,” Suki commented. 

“Sometimes,” he snickered as the picture of Yane’s sly Chesire grin crossed his mind. “Sometimes, she’s as devious as Sokka.”

“Devious?” Sokka repeated, scandalized as he flung his hands like a lunatic. “I’m a scheming, genius strategist! That’s not paramount to being devious.”

“You replaced Aang’s tomato juice with chili sauce before and told me it’s okay because chili and tomatoes are both ‘vegetables’,” Zuko reminded him and saw Aang’s face morph like his taste buds are violated by the red hot sauce again. 

“Or when you tried to braid both Katara’s or my hair together while we slept!” Toph shot back, suddenly forgetting the dessert she was busying herself with seconds ago.

Katara fixed her brother a glare. “We had to cut our hair because of the tangles.”

“I’m just glad Sokka spared mine,” Suki sighed, unconsciously brushing her fingers through her hair. 

“That’s because you have short hair,” said Katara. 

“Don’t forget the time Sokka accidentally uploaded—” Aang began with barely held back laughter until Sokka palmed his face and pushed him back with a grunt. 

“I get it! I get it!” Sokka squawked before crossing his arms and sulking in his seat like a brat. “None of you can take high-level intelligence jokes.”

“No one has the time,” Zuko grumbled. 

The muscles in his shoulders started to loosen up in tune with the tension mellowing down to a soft hum. The jasmine tea served also helped with that, and he felt as if he could talk to them again like before. Zuko had always secretly enjoyed their support group sessions, no matter how much Sokka and Toph had incessantly complained about how sickeningly sweet the heart to heart talks were. Katara had always insisted they do it at least once a month. 

He remembered imagining himself surrounded by all of them whenever he had felt low-spirited after their fight. The loneliness that had wrapped him around like a vice was debilitating—even more so than when he was sent here to America by his father. He felt so miserable and so, so angry with himself for being the one to personally stab each one of their outstretched hands when all they had done was to keep on reaching out for his.

His crestfallen gaze first landed on Aang. Kind, selfless, forgiving. So much of a bigger person that he would ever be.

"Aang," he rasped, finding it hard to form the right words. "I'm sorry for betraying you. I thought that if I help deliver you to my father, he'd accept me again. Restore my honor. And maybe, give me the love I always wanted from him. 

"I was wrong," he whispered, hearing his father's empty praises and cold welcome again in his head, the Hong patriarch's words waves of lightning lapping in the core of his bones. "He did try to accept me, told me to go home and that he'd throw a party for me. But I knew it meant nothing. I tried to shut out those thoughts, but I knew it was all just for show. It's what we're good at after all."

He remembered the exact moment when he decided to turn his back on his father. He had been lying on his back alone in his room that night, waiting for his father's call to inform him about the details of the flight back to Beijing the next day. Zuko was told he need not worry about how they'd be catching Aang and travelling him back to China with them. The Hong clan had the means and the people to do that. Transporting—or rather, smuggling, one harmless young witness to the Yong Fu scandal was going to be a walk in the park. All he had to do was to give the monk's location and the rest would be left in pairs of reliable hands. The image of Aang or any of his friends being manhandled roughly, being hurt badly, being treated like an animal—it made his blood freeze inside his veins.

It hit him like a blow from a hammer right in the head. The pristine, formidable figurine he laid on top of his pedestal, a proud and unyielding jewel of China—his family, stripped down of all the thick, corrugated paint to reveal the rotting, corrupted atrocity underneath. Why had it taken so long for him to peel off all those layers of monstrosity?

"I realized, no one deserves hatred and cruelty. Not those people my father deemed as dispensable. Not you, who only happened to see how easy it was for my father to dispose of them. And not me who only yearned to be loved by his own flesh and blood. I had to learn the hard way. I had to lose Uncle and you guys before I truly saw the truth."

Zuko pressed his forehead unto the table in a bow, the gesture startling everyone around the table, save Toph. 

"Please," he pleaded, swallowing his pride willingly. "I almost endangered all your lives. I befriended you with the intention of turning on you. But please, you're the only ones I have left. Please accept my apology."

He waited, head still pressed on the cool wood, his heartbeat making a rhythmic gallop in his ears. 

It was the gentle voice of Katara who broke the silence. "Raise your head, Zuko."

He obeyed but kept his eyes down. 

"How can we be sure you won't sell us out again?" she asked with no hint of hostility but just genuine concern. 

"You only have my word for it," he lamented, finally meeting her turquoise orbs. "I promise I will never betray you again and I will do whatever I can to protect you from him. That's all I can offer."

"The friendship we had, the things you told us about yourself," she went on. "Were any of it real?"

He felt a small smile lift the corners of his lips. "You know they were."

Sokka huffed, leaning his chin unto his hand. "Even the most embarrassing things you shared in our spin-the-bottle games?"

Heat permeated his ears at that remark. "Yeah, even those."

"You're forgiven, Zuko," Aang said. "I always knew you had a kind heart."

"Your uncle said so, too," Toph added.

"Yane said so, too," Suki threw in with a wink.

"Are you sure?" he chuckled as he poured some more tea into Katara's empty cup. "She didn't tell you that I'm a grouch that acts as if I haven't been touched by sunlight for centuries?"

"If she did, she'd be right," Katara laughed before taking the cup.

"Okay, now that we have our sifu hotman—"

"Quit calling me that, Sokka!"

"—is back in the Gaang," Sokka wiggled his eyebrows for special effects. "We have so much catching up to do! Let's start with Toph's suitor."

"Hey! That jerkass fudgeface is not my suitor!"

~ O ~ 

"We'll come back next week," Sokka told him jovially as they broke apart from their hug. "Just tell us when you're free to go out. I'm still using the same digits."

"Sure thing, buddy," Zuko chuckled. "Let's do something different this time."

"Oh, like a buffet?"

The scowl he delivered only amped up the voltage of Sokka's grin. "No, something all of us can enjoy."

"Whatever floats your boat, man.”

From the corner of his eye, Zuko caught sight of Katara wrapping Yane in her arms as she whispered something he couldn’t hear from this distance. Yane laughed softly in response and nodded. 

“Well, let’s get going,” Toph called out as she picked on her ear with her pinky. 

Sokka leaned in and whispered to Zuko in a low but still audible voice, “She’s in a hurry to meet with Eddie.”

“I can hear your bones cracking under my hands, Sokka,” the Beifong heiress threatened with an unamused scowl in her face. 

“Oh ho ho, that’s scary,” Sokka remarked even as he visibly paled. 

“Careful,” Zuko told him.

“See you soon, Zuko!” Aang waved. “You, too, Yane!”

Yane walked to Zuko’s side as Katara finally rejoined their group of friends. There was a serene smile etched on her lips, the signs of stress he’s seen her wear the past few days fading into blur. 

“Yeah, you better come with us next time,” Katara said. “Have a girl-time together.”

“We can go to the beach together,” Suki suggested. 

“That sounds like a great plan,” Yane replied and gave Zuko a quick glance. “I haven’t been to any beaches ever since I came here to the US.”

“Really?” Zuko raised his brow. “We could’ve gone the other day.”

“All the more reason we go together,” Aang enthused. 

“We’ll see you all soon,” Zuko said before adding, “Thank you.”

One quiet moment was shared and they started to walk towards the opposite side with Aang still waving with his unlimited reserves of energy. 

Yane let her hand fall to her side once they were out of view and it was only then when she noticed his lingering stare on her. She looked at him funny and asked, “What?”

“So, you knew it was my birthday?”

“Well,” she grinned widely at him. “Yeah?”

“You looked at my bio?”

“No! What do I look like to you, a stalker?” she yapped, looking as offended as a toddler getting caught stealing candies that were already in her mouth. 

Crossing his arms, he gave her a pointed look, “I don’t buy it.”

“Okay, I did,” Yane huffed and crossed her arms to mirror him. “But I only did it after your friends came to visit.”

“What?” he blurted, dropping his stance. 

“They came by when you weren’t on your shift. Introduced themselves and told me they wanted to surprise you on your birthday.”

For all the thoughts that ran in his mind, Zuko couldn’t articulate any of those into coherent sentences. His eyes trailed back to the direction his friends went—longing and awed. 

“They... did that?”

“Yes, silly boy,” she chortled ungracefully at whatever face he was wearing. “Is it really so hard to get that people really care about you?”

“But what I did to them was unforgivable. I could’ve gotten them killed.”

Yane blinked, unknowing of what had transpired between them in the past. “That’s... a story for another time. For now, just let go of it. They clearly seemed willing enough to forget it just so they can keep you.”

“It’s like what you said,” he sighed. “It is hard to understand how you could all stay for me.”

“Hey!” she barked and held his throat in her hand. “If you keep talking like that, I’m going to kill you. Birthday boy or not.”

Zuko tried to open his mouth to utter a protest but decided that it wasn’t worth it. Arguing with the woman in front of him would only end up in hours of sulking as if he’d ripped out her heart. It had been particularly worse whenever she was near her period. 

Something she so shamelessly announced every time, much to his embarrassment.

Instead, he heaved a sigh and whispered, so only she could hear the poisonous shame and misery that crept up in his stomach and made him queasy. 

Her eyes stayed on his. 

“I was at fault. Still, they were the ones who came for me. Tell me honestly. I won’t take any lies from you, Yane. Am I such a failure? Because, I do understand now. I’m important to them, but that does not change anything about me.”

The hand around his throat fell limply as she considered his words carefully, her eyes clouding all of the sudden. He appreciated that she was giving much thought about how to answer his question—to which, he himself knew the answer to. Zuko just wanted to hear it directly from her, to help him come into terms with himself, to help him move on.

“Yes,” she finally intoned, and that single word pierced into his chest like an icicle. “You are a failure. You still are. But so what? Aren’t we all failures? We suck as people. We do things that hurt them. We do things that make us feel good even at the expense of someone else, and that makes us horrible creatures, right?”

She started to reach for the pendant hanging around her neck—a sun and a moon, chiseled in gold. 

“But we love fiercely, too,” she went on, letting her eyes drop to her sneaker-clad feet, her face all twisted up like she was hurt, angry, sick—as though she was about to start to break things around her. Everything but herself.

“We grind our way to redeem ourselves in the way we think is right,” she went on, the corners of her mouth softening. “Clichè. I know. But you just oughta do that, right? Have your own redemption arc. Make it up to the people you’ve hurt and continue to love them. It’s really that simple.”

Zuko noticed the way she clutched at her pendant like she wanted to both keep it close to her soul and toss it into the sky at the same time. He lifted his hand to caress her cheek but stopped midway, resting it on top of her head instead.

“Is it really that easy?” he asked in a low voice, gaze glued to her pendant. 

“I said ‘simple’,” she said, letting go of the jewelry. “Not easy.”

“Figures.”

Yane made a low noise as he withdrew his hand before lifting a brown paper package in front of his face. 

“I did get you a present,” she said before he could ask. “Honestly, did you think I wouldn’t notice you brooding by the kitchen the whole time? Such a baby.”

The glower in his face materialized at that observation. “I wasn’t brooding.”

“Please, Zuko, you always brood.”

He snatched the package with agitation and eyed it as if the gift had just offended his mother. 

“It ain’t a bomb, I promise.”

“You tried to poison me before, remember?”

Yane’s eyes widened in mock terror as she clutched at his arm. “What? Seriously? But why are you still alive?”

“Shut up,” he blew out, opening the package.

Zuko pulled out a book out of the bag and stared at the title for a second. The magenta color caught his eye, definitely. It was his favorite after all, but what caught his attention the most was the title printed like it was written in a language he didn’t know. 

“One Year Walk?” he read. “With God?”

“It’s called a devotional,” she informed him and peered by his side. “You read a page everyday.”

He gave her a grimace. "What is it? Buddist advice and way of living?”

“No, silly,” she laughed. “Never heard of Christianity?”

Then his face crumpled into confusion. “Heard of it. Are you trying to convert me, or something?”

And at that point, she just looked ridiculously offended he almost wanted to laugh. 

“No,” she said, patience kept to the brim. “I’m just... trying to share with you this God I have. He loves all of us. He loves you.”

All the traces of amusement snapped into nothing as a dark veil fell on his face. “Sure hasn’t been there for me for the whole time I’m on earth.”

“No, you just think so ‘cause it’s dark,” she said almost too confidently. “But when it lifts, you’ll see. He’s always been there.”

Zuko broke their stare to look back at the book in his hand. It was definitely not what he was expecting for a gift, but here it was. Yet another surprising thing from the lady beside him. 

“Thank you,” he said, placing his arm on her shoulders in a one-arm hug. “For helping me with my friends. And for this. I’m not promising I’ll read it, though.”

“That’s fine,” she chirped, looking relieved that he decided to keep it. Yane surprised him when she returned his awkward hug with a full embrace, her ear now pressed over his hammering heart. 

“Seeds have been planted, at least,” she remarked, and he didn’t understand. “Happy birthday, Hong Zuko.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And say hello to the Gaang!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of the rain, Zuko finds himself back in the past.

Rekindling  
Chapter 6

_Last night's rain, which has seeped into your ever-trembling heart, flows atop your scars, as though it were washing away your past.  
The rope that should have been fastened has come undone, as though from the very beginning, ships were never able to stay in one place.  
Always lost, no longer even able to go back home, your voice shouts, ''Find me!'' - though still, nobody hears.  
So lonely, clutching your knees and waiting - ''I'm all alone...''  
Always wandering, no longer even able to scream, only walking through the darkness.  
''I'm all alone, just as I've always been...''  
I won't let you say things like that anymore.  
(Polaris, Aimer) _

Zuko was sure Yane was on her period. 

"I told you to bring the umbrella."

Flinching from the tone of her voice, Zuko took an effort not to look away as she held his eyes with an accusing sheen. Her eyelashes glinted with remnants of tears, her cheeks flushed. For whatever reason, even for the pettiest little thing, he found that he hated her tears more than a million of things in this world.

"I know. I forgot, okay?" he scratched the back of his head with unsaid frustration. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," she hastily told him, grabbing a hold onto his wrist unconsciously. "I'm just overly emotional because I think I'm about to have."

He gave her a noncommittal shrug in response. "I figured that out hours ago. Don't feel bad about it. It's my fault I left our umbrella by the door."

She took in a deep breath and released a puff of air in a defeated sigh. Sullenly, she glared at the rain like it had offended her, lower lip puckered out and eyes downcast. Zuko heard the soft drizzle pattering against the tiles of the pagoda they were taking refuge in. Then, he remembered.

"Hey, you haven't tried the roasted soy bean matcha latte yet."

Yane stared at the cup in his hand blankly. "Was the name of the drink that long?"

"You told me to get you anything with 'roasted' on it," he reminded as she received the cup and brightened considerably. 

"You didn't get anything for yourself?" she asked before taking a sip.

"I'll grab something when we get out of here."

The drizzle was steadily becoming a downpour. Zuko silently cursed himself for even saying that out loud knowing the kind of rotten luck he carried in his pocket. Yane had wanted to visit the botanical gardens in the famous Golden Gate Park. She had charged into the tea shop one day, smile so bright it singed his retinas, and had immediately demanded him to bring her to the park for finally being accepted in Caduceus.

Gazing back at her, Zuko noted the new dress she especially picked out for this occasion. The black floral dress that reached the soles of her feet had some sort of a slit that revealed her legs, and Zuko would be lying if he said that the outfit didn't look demurely sexy on her. She badly needed a new profile picture, she had said so shamelessly, but with the rate the rain was going, she might end up with only selfies.

"We could go back to the Redwood Trail," he said, averting his eyes from her figure before she turned back to him. 

"Now?" she intoned, incredulous. "Look at the rain, man. It's pouring! You can't expect us to go running under the rain like kids."

"You mean you haven't tried that?"

She gave him a dubious look. "Have you?"

Zuko held the knowing glance for while, hoping his face wouldn't betray the lie he had formed in between his teeth. "Yes."

She snorted and took a sip from her drink. "Like heck you'd be allowed to play in the rain and risk catching colds."

"I know my childhood sucked," he remarked, crossing his arms.

Blinking at his statement and sudden change of tone, Yane placed her cup beside her and reached out for his wrist again. Her hand was warm after a moment of holding onto the cup. 

"I didn't mean to bring back sad memories, Zuko."

A soft breeze blew through his hair, the smell of the rain quickly filling his senses and lulling him to succumb to the melancholic but relaxing atmosphere. He remembered. The sky was also in the hue of gray that day. Not a speck of sunshine nor a crack of lightning even attempted to shed some color in that monotone sky. 

"Before I got this scar, my childhood was... more normal."

"You don't have to—" she started, probably about to tell him that there wasn't any need to share a delicate piece of his life if he didn't want to. 

His scar. This mark of dishonor. A permanent imperfection on his porcelain skin that everyone scrutinised at. From the corner of his eye, he caught the quick dart of her eyes to him again, or rather, to where the said blemish was on his face. Yane had always looked at him squarely, not at his left side with any trace of curiosity or pity, but now, he could feel her stare brewing with something akin to despair and rage.

His hand drifted up to touch the tight flesh on his cheek almost without realizing it, and saw her recoiling, knowing she had been caught staring. 

"Have you heard of the Yong Fu Scandal?" 

She placed the cup in front of her mouth, then warily said, "I've read about it."

"The 89 employees were affected when the oil rig that exploded—16 dead, 73 injured. A small fisherman boat carrying 2 people. Both dead. The oil that spilled into the sea, killing—I don't know, hundreds of marine life? All the casualties were pinned unto Yong Fu Corporation. Agni Enterprises kept its hands spotless amidst what the world the dubbed 'Most Tragic Corporate Scandals of the Decade'. You'll never see our company's name in any of the headlines."

Yane contemplated on his words, her eyebrows knitted together. "That's not the case, is it? Agni is partly responsible for it."

A battered smile ripped across his mouth, a mask that became sorely familiar through the reflection in Yane's eyes. "You've only half right. Agni wasn't just partly responsible. My father and his board members conspired to bring Yong Fu to its end by making it seem like the oil drilling rig malfunctioned and subsequently exploding due to Yong Fu's negligence."

Her arm abruptly stopped midway to her mouth, spilling some of her drink on her skirt. Slowly, she turned her head to meet his shameful eyes with horror speaking to him in great volumes. 

"It wasn't an accident?" she whispered, voice low and unbelieving.

"No," he confirmed, the faces of those monsters flashing across his memories like a broken tape. "I was there when they were planning it. Me and my sister, both. But unlike her, I didn't keep quiet. I spoke against my father's righthand man. I argued against each of their points and pointed out the cruelty of the plot they were getting to. I thought my father was on my side. He kept his silence, up until the very end of the discussion. And that made me so proud of myself for the first time."

Zuko covered his scar with his palm, voice quivering as he continued, "I thought he finally acknowledged me as worthy to be called his son. Until we got home, alone in his study. He stared at the fireplace without any word, while stupid me kept on talking about removing the board members from their positions. I didn't see it coming.

"He threw a burning log at me. I didn't have time to react. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, clawing at my face. I never understood much about fire's destruction until I felt it sear through my flesh." 

Zuko peered through the cascade of rain. The plants were no longer visible under the curtain of shower that kept the two of them inside an isolated bubble in this Japanese pagoda. The rhythmic sibilant sounds kept the silence from joining them as a companion.

"You did the right thing," her voice cut across the rain's continuous strumming.

He frowned at her. "I lost everything I owned after that night. I lost my home."

"You lost the things that didn't matter," she said firmly, her hand now balled around his closed fist. "You lost the things that kept you from being the true you. Your father. Your sister. Your company. You did something to save those people. It was more honorable than anything your father has ever done. At that moment, you surpassed the person he was."

He thought her words were familiar. _Ah_. His uncle Iroh had said something similar to that. The first time he heard them, he was still enslaved by the voices of his father. None of what Uncle Iroh had told him made anything close to sense.

But, now...

He finally understood.

"The words that kept coming out of my mouth after that was 'I need to regain my honor'. My uncle repeatedly told me 'there was no crown to reclaim'. I get it now."

"Does your uncle always speak in metaphors?" she asked jokingly.

Chuckling, he nodded. "Uncle Iroh is an weirdo who's addicted to tea. You should meet him someday. You're going to enjoy his sense of humor."

"Is it like yours?"

"No," he said abruptly, almost sounding offended.

"Good," she laughed. "Then, I'll surely enjoy it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Yane said lightly, holding her cup again. "You're blessed, you know that? You have a really cool uncle who goes through lengths to be there for you. You have friends who make sure you stay on the right path."

Aang's face came first, earnest glint in his gray orbs the first time he met him in the US. To Zuko's dismay, the cheerful expression on the young monk's face melted to reveal the crippling hurt and betrayal coming in the form of unshed tears and silent accusations.

"Aang's the only living witness to Agni's involvement in the Yong Fu Scandal. His mother held strong pieces of evidence against us and was about to stand as a whistleblower just before the oil rig explosion, but my father's men were a lot faster. She was murdered by a squad of men dispatched by the Hong family. A bullet to her head was all that was needed to silence her. 

"Aang was only able to procure some of the papers prior to her death and he fled to the US."

"And your father thought he was a big threat?" Yane wondered out loud.

"Of course," he agreed, recalling the piercing stare his father had given him when the Hong patriarch announced the hunt for the young witness. "No matter how seemingly inconsequential the evidences Aang held, they held value to Yong Fu in clearing their name from this scandal. Not to mention, as the biggest fish in the Chinese industry, Agni Enterprises has a lot of competitors seeking different means to diminish the political and economical power it held."

Hong Ozai hired professionals from a Chinese criminal order to track Aang down, capture him and bring him back to China alive. Seeing the opportunity to get rid of his son and make him useful at the same time, Ozai arranged a flight for Zuko to America to join the manhunt. 

It was a cruel punishment, one that Zuko had always accepted as something he gravely deserved for defying and humiliating his father in front of all those powerful men. It was, he realized, the best thing's that ever happened to him.

If he hadn't been sent away from home, he would've still lived under the shadow of his father, ignorantly begging to become a monster like him. 

"You were the one who found him," Yane said with a low voice. 

"By pure luck," Zuko sighed, relieved but slightly disturbed. "Aang had changed his identity and became a monk. Shaved his head, tattooed a weird looking arrow on it. Imagine my surprise when he comes into the tea shop one unexpected morning, like a gold bar dropped on my lap. He thought I didn't want to have anything to do with my father, after what he did to me. He took pity on me and befriended me without any doubt. I took advantage of that kindness.

"It would've been easy," Zuko laughed as if he's been the subject of someone's joke, and maybe, he thought, he was. "I beat my father's men into finding the whistleblower. I knew I was going to get what I've been wanting from my dad. All I needed to do was take Aang back, and I'll get my family back."

Wrapping her arms around herself, she shifted on her seat so he could see her face, lightly illuminated by what little glow the sun gave through the clouds. Sensing his stare, she grinned at him, knowing and accepting. 

"You didn't," she said.

"I didn't," he confirmed. "And you know the rest of the story."

The rain continued to murmur, a white noise that Zuko started noticing again once they stopped talking. The orange-haired doctor extended her legs beyond the ledge of the pagoda, crossing them together and letting her exposed toes soak under the gentle drizzle. He watched the droplets of water collide with the gray-rose leather of her sandals before they race each other to the puddle by the side of her feet. 

"It probably doesn't mean much if I say it. But I'm really proud of you, Zuko."

Zuko averted his eyes from her shoes to her collarbones, to dip of her neck, then to the tiny upturn of her lips. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but he had no idea how to compress all of these feelings into tangible words that could properly get his message across. 

Yane gave up the meager amount of water she had to nurse her own scalded wounds just so she could wash some of it over his scars. 

"Can I touch it?" Yane asked.

He realized she was looking at the left side of his face where his hand had once again unconsciously settled to.

With some reluctance, he dropped his hand and nodded.

Carefully, as though he was a delicate porcelain, Yane feathered her fingertips over the ridge of his eye. She lightly brushed over his closed eye and traced the jagged line of his scar to the lobe of his ear. Her fingers now felt cold to his face and Zuko had to clench his hands to keep himself from shivering or pulling her hand from his skin. 

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," she said like she's read his internal thoughts. "This scar makes you beautiful. It's a reminder of your nobility and of the pure heart you have."

When he opened his eyes, he saw her obsidian irises glimmer. He couldn't help but lean to her touch.

Yane trailed her hand to the side of his neck before chuckling, "Of course, I also mean you look handsome outside."

Zuko felt his ears blaze at the bold comment, quickly tearing his eyes from her smug face. "You're unbelievable," he muttered under his breath. 

"Aww," she cooed, cupping his face with both hands now. "Is Prince Zuko embarrassed by this little, pretty commoner?"

Regaining his composure, he stared back at her evenly, as if daring her to look away. "I knew we should've stayed at Redwood Trail."

"Huh, why? There's no roof there. Our clothes will be soiled by the time we get home."

"That's the point," he shrugged. "At least you'll have an excuse to cuddle beside me for warmth."

Yane could only stare at him when it came tumbling out of his mouth, and surprisingly, Zuko felt no embarrassment over the seemingly flirtatious comment. He found that it was becoming easier to speak his mind and desire to get closer to her. It was an addicting thought. 

It was also empowering.

She released his face and sighed almost contentedly, "Well, who knew you could be this romantic."

"You think?" he laughed. "Mai wouldn't agree with you."

He regretted it the second he said it. He sneaked a peak under his long lashes and felt an instant wave of relief when Yane kept that smile intact. 

"Do I need an excuse to cuddle with you, though?" she laughed.

Zuko pretended to give it some thought before heaving a feigned, defeated sigh. "I guess not. When did you realize you liked me, anyway?"

Yane gestured to all of him. "Who said I liked you?" 

"There are some things better expressed without the use of words," he retorted in response. 

He was met with silence to his mild and disappointed surprise. Had he been wrong to assume she liked him back after all? He may be awkward as much as awkward could go, admittedly so, but Zuko was no longer the insensitive teen he used to be back in his hometown. He understood those attentive glances she generously shed over him, soft stares entwined with admiration. It didn't take someone experienced in this field to know how loud her actions had been towards him. 

Unless, of course, he was being lured to a delusional state yet again. 

"No, stop," she ordered abruptly, slapping him out of the trance he was about to venture in. "I know what you're thinking. I can read it all over your face." 

She sighed when he merely prodded her to continue with his unresponsiveness.

"Remember when I choked on my milk tea because the boba almost went down the wrong pipe?”

He nodded slowly, a smile threatening to make spill out of his mashed lips.

“And I ended up coughing like I was dying and accidentally knocking over my drink? I felt really awful that time because it hurt to breathe and the drink I’ve waited three weeks to buy went down the drain. Literally. Then you started laughing. It was the first time I've heard to laugh. Not a scoff of amused disbelief. Not a low, conservative chuckle. A real laugh."

Biting on her bottom lip, she looked as though she was having a difficult time moving on and explaining her thoughts about that tidbit of memory he himself has almost forgotten. He could see the internal debate dancing in her eyes, until she snapped them shut and resigned to opening her mouth to speak her mind. 

"You laughed, then you suddenly stopped. You looked so surprised. It's as if it's also the first time you heard yourself laugh. It was nice... and sad at the same time."

Zuko searched her face for any traces of emotions she tried to keep but could find none but sincere compassion. "...You fell for me because of that?"

“I think real life oxymorons are exhilarating,” her voice was barely a whisper. “Things that are contradictory yet there ain’t any other way they could be perfect but with each other. You're somewhat like an embodiment of that idea. A beautiful tragedy. Tragic because of what life put you through. Beautiful, because your purity was made even more apparent through the pruning.”

A dull ache pulsed in his chest. “You overestimate me,” he argued weakly.

"I did no such thing. Anyway," she drawled out before hopping to her feet and making a beeline out of the pagoda.

With eyes widening at her sudden movement, he shouted, "Yane! What the hell? You're going to get sick!"

"Stop overreacting, _Royal Sourpuss_ ," Yane laughed and stayed under the veil of shower. "Rain's about to stop, anyway. Look, you can already see the golden hour sunlight. You need to take this opportunity to get a nice photo of me. Hurry! Hurry!"

"You're really crazy!" he yelled, all the while scrambling for his phone. 

As though she had the decade-worth of modelling skill, she slid her foot and crossed it over the other. She tossed locks of copper hair, twisting her body as she did so. Yane raised a hand to her head like she had an ongoing migraine, and truth be told, Zuko never had enough brain cells to understand women and their headache poses, but he couldn't find it in him to jeer at her.

The way she moved like she was dancing, under the scarlet rays of the sun, with her hair a reminiscence of a raging fire, that visage of a princess ruling over flames—it was mesmerising.

Where had he seen it?

"Zuko!" she yipped, puncturing through his sphere of thoughts. "Hurry up! And make sure you capture my good angle."

"Yeah, yeah! Hold on for a second!" 

Hong Zuko looked at her one more time before snapping the photo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yong Fu literally means eternally rich/wealthy/fortunate/lucky. Wanted to paint an irony with the words. Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko asked her out for something special, and Yane feels a turmoil of emotions.

情願 墜落在你手中

羽化 成黑夜的彩虹

蛻變 成月光的清風 成月光的清風

幸福 跳進你的河流 一直游到盡頭 跳進你的河

(Yellow, Katherine Ho) 

He hadn't known that those magic tricks his mom had taught him would come to use. And although Zuko had always treasured those memories he had with her, he never believed those tricks were going to benefit him in ways other than amusing himself, considering he only met with fellow businessmen on a daily basis back in Beijing.

"Do it again?" the small blond kid urged, polite but persistent. His honey-colored eyes were focused with an intensity that of a professional critic's, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Zuko couldn't stop himself from laughing at the child and at himself. He was actually enjoying it. When Kosuke had started warming up to him, he started to come to Zuko expectantly with a curiosity that he knew could come only from Yane.

"Okay, watch closely," Zuko instructed as he raised one hand holding the King of Spades. Kosuke's gaze followed his movements, and then, with one flick, the card disappeared into oblivion.

With an agility he didn't know a 4-year-old could have, Kosuke's hand shot to grab his pinky finger. He pulled Zuko's hand towards his face to inspect and search for any signs of the missing card. His face was a wash of shock once Zuko closed his free hand and flipped out the said card in between his fingers.

"How did it go there?" Kosuke enthused, completely bewildered.

"Magic," he replied with an ominous tone he heard villains use in cartoon shows.

His face broke into an excited grin. "Can you teach me?"

"Only chosen ones get to do magic," he told him, still in-character. "You have to do something in exchange."

Kosuke took this in and scratched his head in thought, clearly distrusting but enticed nonetheless. Zuko blew at the card and fanned it.

"What do I have to do?" he gave in as he snatched the card.

Zuko hummed like he was actually deliberating on it. He snapped his finger and bent down so that he was on eye level with Kosuke. "You just have to get another perfect score on your next math quiz."

Kosuke beamed at him.

"Not hard, right?" he chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair fondly.

"Nope!"

"Then, Kid," he whispered, "We have a deal."

Zuko straightened just in time for him to see Yane ambling towards the living room, all dressed up for the occasion. He felt his throat parch at her appearance and hoped she hadn't noticed him swallowing nervously.

"Didn't know you were good with kids," she observed out loud as Kosuke launched himself towards her in a bear hug.

"I was surprised myself," he half-laughed, half-coughed. "He's a good kid."

"Is he now?" she crooned affectionately, holding Kosuke's face in her hands and pinching at his cheeks. "Is he now?"

"You might tear his skin if you keep up with that," Taiga's baritone voice came to join the fray.

The unnaturally big hulking muscle of a man made his way to the cupboards before giving him a sidelong glance and gruffly saying, "Coffee or tea?"

After all those times of bringing Yane home, joining them for dinner and sometimes sleeping over on the couch, Zuko had grown used to the man's constant intimidating presence. What seemed like a perpetual disapproving scowl on his face only turned out to be what the people here dub as resting bitch face. He was well aware of Taiga's acceptance of humor—at least, the idea of Yane dating him, when he started offering drinks and even taking food requests.

Taiga turned out to be an excellent cook. Needless to say, Zuko was flummoxed.

"I'm good," he told Taiga.

"Yeah, we're about to leave, too," Yane added. "Save me some of that honey soy sauce chicken, okay? I'll eat it tomorrow."

"What time will you be home?" Taiga asked with raised brow, sounding much like those dads who'd bite anyone approaching his daughter.

"She'll be home by 11," Zuko answered for her. "I'll make sure of it. If she doesn't, assume the worst and file for a criminal search in the police immediately."

"Got it. I'll be sure to look for your body and give you justice."

"Guys, there's a kid here!" Yane chided amidst the men's low obnoxious chuckles, her hands already covering Kosuke's ears. "My goodness. Take your sick humor somewhere adult-rated, will you?"

"Says the one with the darkest humor," Taiga muttered under his breath.

"You," she stabbed one finger at his direction. "I'll deal with you later, and you." Yane elbowed him in the ribs. "Come on."

"Bye, Uncle Zuko!" Kosuke chirped with raised hands. "Don't forget our deal!"

"You got it, Kid," Zuko gave a salute in return.

The two made their move to exit the house and the loss of noise soon set his nerves in a haywire again. With a clammy hand, Zuko turned the knob and welcomed the view of their ride.

"Are you finally going to tell me where we're going this time?" Yane asked as she got in the car. She waited for him to take the driver's seat before she went on, "You even got us a car. Whose is this?"

"Toph's," he replied and put on his seatbelt.

"Get out of here," she spat, looking around with curiosity piqued. "How does she drive this?"

"Obviously, she doesn't. She has a chauffeur, but that tough-headed woman knows nothing of being served, much more to be driven around like she was helpless. She pays the chauffeur to shut up about not driving so her parents won't come and get her."

"Okay," she intoned, completely suspicious. "So, where are you taking us?"

"It won't be a surprise if I tell you."

She huffed and threw her frame onto the seat. "I had to buy a new dress."

The engine purred to life with a twist of his hand. "Why?"

"You said it was special."

He arched a brow at how incredulous that sounded and began to drive. "You've probably gone to special events before, and going by that assumption, I'd think you'd have at least a few pieces of clothing for that. I don't get why you had to buy a new one."

"Most boys wouldn't get it."

"Most?"

Yane seemed to have back-pedalled there, succumbing to silence for a brink of a moment before she patted her lap and complained, "Aren't you at least going to compliment me and my new dress?"

Hiding a smile, he glanced briefly at her as though she was a fly buzzing about to annoy him and nodded begrudgingly, "You look lovely."

"Ugh, you sound so fake," she groaned, and though he couldn't see her, he could already hear the pout in her whining.

"I'm just joking," he laughed. "I've been unable to keep my eyes off you ever since you came down to the living room, happy?"

"Now you just sound patronizing!"

"I said what you want to hear! What else do you want from me?"

"Tell me I'm pretty."

"I just did!"

Zuko could feel the sharp dagger she was throwing at him right now from the passenger's seat. A few seconds later, her braying noise filled the car as she jabbed a finger unto his cheek repeatedly.

It was his turn to groan this time, one that he hoped translated to the misery he felt in having a woman who was more childish than her son as his date. If Yane understood, she paid him no heed as she continued to badger him to praise her.

"By the way," he cut across her incorrigible blabber. "Why is your accent different from Taiga's?"

She paused, a bit confused. "What?"

"You talk—I don't know. You sound like you didn't grow up in Japan."

"Oh, you're saying Taiga sounds funny."

"I didn't mean it like that," he bit out as he took a turn.

"He does sound funny, like the rest of my friends when they speak English. I only know, like, one person from my group of friends who speaks without a tinge of Japanese accent."

Zuko gently stepped on the brakes as the yellow light blinked in warning. "Did you get special education for English, too?"

Darkness veiled over Yane's face, her eyes only partly illuminated by the soft gleam of street lights from outside. Slowly, she tilted her head to the side as she hummed, her whole face falling under the cast of the shadows.

"I've always admired the natural American accent. The flow is smooth like silk. The British accent sounds more like a captivating rhythm. The Irish, with hard rises and falls. French, singing in every sentence.

"Chinese and Japanese accent," she tapped her lips. "They sound so... normal for us, I guess. So I tried not to sound like that when I was learning as a child. You like my accent?"

"I never said such a thing," he mumbled. "I just found it unusual."

They didn't talk for the rest of the ride since Yane fell asleep a minute after he took another turn. Driving turned out to still be a natural task for him, even after nearly a year of staying in the US. He was glad he took on Sokka's offer to watch him grease up on his driving skills before taking Yane on this date, otherwise, the supposedly menial task would add up in the list of things piling up in his mind.

Sokka had been patient, but the guy would never pass up an opportunity to bash the back of his head whenever he made little mistakes like abrupt stops and slightly rough turns.

His lips quirk to a smile as he slowed down upon reaching the intersection.

They reached their destination faster than he thought. Zuko parked the car beside a red Sudan and unbuckled his seatbelt.

He patted her hand and found it cold. "Yane, we're here."

Stirring, she gave a soft moan of complaint as her face twisted to a premature scowl. The sour curve of her lips was instantly replaced with a watery smile the moment her eyes lit up.

"Great, I'm starving," she slurred.

Yane got out of the scar before he did, stretching with her arms raised in the air. The dress she's been buzzing about came to his full view—white, off-shoulder with a modest-length above her knee, hugging her figure and accentuating her waist and hips.

To his dismay, she caught him staring. She placed her hands on the waist he's been ogling at and said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "I told you it looked dashing on me."

He glared at the mocking innocent face and offered a hand. "And I said so, didn't I?"

She grimaced as she took his hand. "One thing I hate about this is how small my boobs look—"

"Yane, please—"

"—when they're already small in the first place. I mean, seriously! Mine look like mosquito bites, for the love of Pete. I'm so flaaaat. I've got a flat chest. A flat ass. If only I had a s—"

"I get it! I get it!" he hissed, tugging her faster into the venue in the fear of the people hearing her. She stumbled a bit on her high heels but never stopped giggling at his apparent embarrassment over one of her many quixotic speeches.

"Sorry," she whispered sheepishly.

"Why do you even bother apologizing when you're just going to repeat the same thing the next time you get a chance?"

"If it makes you feel better," she said as she stopped looking around the place in favor of him. "The scarf looks posh on your semi-formal outfit."

His eyes dropped to his scarf for a fraction of a second before he rolled them in exasperation. Ignoring her expectant grin, he released her hand and walked towards the woman who was already on her way to meet them.

"Reservation for two. Lee Huang Zhi," he said.

"Good evening, Mr. Lee. I am Holly," the attendant greeted them jovially. "This way please."

"La Grandiose?" she said in a hushed tone when they were out of earshot, no doubt already aware of the solemn atmosphere of the place they stepped into. "Why didn't you tell me we're going to La Grandiose? I could've worn something else and put on some blush-on."

"Here is your seat," Holly gestured at the table set and gave a bow. "Please enjoy the night."

"Thank you," he replied and pulled the chair for her.

Yane's disquiet eyes scanned the area as she took the seat. She smoothed out the crease on the table cloth and linked her fingers around the glass of water already prepared for her.

"I already made a pre-order of our food, if you don't mind."

"As long as you didn't order any internal organs, or bloody steak, then I don't mind."

"I made sure of that, and will you please relax?" he snickered.

"I am relaxed," she lied through her teeth. She knew he knew what she was feeling. The way she curled her hands on the table as if itching to play with the flower in the center piece, just so she could busy her mind a bit—it all spelled out to him the unease that's settling like a big mass in her stomach.

She pulled lightly on her sleeve. "Sorry. I'm not used to this."

Sombre rivulets of music drifted through the whispered hum of people's tones and barely audible clinks of cutleries. The cream-colored curtains hanging around them like cascading waterfalls swayed with the breeze of wind, carrying with it the scent of flowers and oak wood. He didn't think he'd had enough to afford a reservation in La Grandiose, but he did. He had to decline the offers of help from his friends because he wanted to be the only one to give this to her fully.

"I meant it when I said you looked lovely," he uttered and to make his point, Zuko fished his phone from his pocket and turned on the camera. "Smile."

Ready as always, she tilted her head and flashed a smile.

He stared at the photo for a while before showing it to her. "See?"

She touched his screen and expanded her photo. "It's not that."

"Then, what's the matter?"

"I'm just not used to—ugh, okay, okay," she inhaled deeply and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I love places like these. I love all these beautiful decorations, atmosphere, real damn good food, classical music, dim light, but it brings bad memories. It's like, when I go to places like these, I get the feeling that everyone else is looking at me like I'm some sort of microorganism under their microscopes."

She swallowed and rested her chin on her hand. "Don't worry. It's just my introvert self taking a hold of my nerves. Let me just—let me acclimatize and I'll be back to normal."

"No," he said. "I get it. If anything, I understand exactly what you feel. With each step, put your best foot forward. Look perfectly capable. Make no mistake."

The nod she gave him released some tension in his shoulders. Unlike her, Zuko was bred to bear the pressure of those scrutinizing eyes waiting for him to screw up. Over the years, he'd hardened and accustomed himself to behaving like he was sure of everything he did. Fake it even if you don't have it. Make people doubt their own criticisms by exceeding the image they painted of you.

He opened his mouth, about to ask what situations made her feel that way when she beat him to it.

"The guy I used to date was a celebrity."

Zuko closed his mouth, feeling like a dumbass for no particular reason. There wasn't a day that the mysterious ex didn't cross his mind. He didn't bother bringing it up because, one, he didn't want her to remember, and two, jealousy, anger and insecurity would all join into a mixture of atrocious emotions that would suffocate the little beating organ he had hanging in his chest. It was neither going to help him or her.

"And look at me now," she flicked her hand a few inches from his face like she was doing the magic he did earlier. "Dating a celebrity again."

"Not by choice," he said and stirred away from her hand. "I would trade my entire childhood for a life in the desert."

She burst out in a string of chuckles with a playful roll of her eyes. Yane took notice of the menu resting by the side and began skimming through the pages.

"You want to know what I do to calm myself down?" he murmured like he was in on a secret, attention already laid on a certain middle-aged man a few tables from theirs.

"What?"

He beckoned her towards him so she could hear him whisper as he looked back at the man. "At your 4 o'clock direction. See that guy?"

Yane carefully turned her head with narrowed eyes. "The one with a green tie and gray dress shirt?"

"That's our guy," he nodded.

They watched the man tuck one hand under his arm and shift on his seat, once, twice and another time. He covered his mouth like he was about to cough but it appeared like he was just speaking to the other man seated across him. Yane observed this exchanged with slightly squinted, calculating eyes.

Zuko shifted his gaze to peak on Yane before returning to the direction of the man. "See how he can't seem to stay still in his chair?"

"Yes. Let me guess, he's trying to close a business deal with the other guy but he's not doing a good job hiding his apprehension, which then would look highly unprofessional."

Zuko made a low noise before cocking his chin to the other man. "What about him?"

The other one was considerably younger—maybe a few years older than Zuko himself. With his hazelnut hair slicked back, face perfectly shaved, the guy looked as though he just came out of a photoshoot of a perfume advertisement. Unlike his older counterpart, he wore no tie and had his first few buttons opened.

"He looks so assured of his advantage. Head held up high like that. Sitting like he's the boss listening to someone present a proposal in a meeting. And," she barred her hands and made vertical motions between them. "The way he leans back like that with an aloof expression is like forming an invisible wall in front of him. It's like he's saying, 'you and I are on a different level'. It's also a means of cold intimidation. Passive aggression. A more effective weapon in instilling deep-set fear."

Zuko shook his head and gave her a look that reminded her of the disapproving ones her professors gave her whenever she made a mistake in a return demo exam.

"Wrong?"

"Wrong."

"What do you think then?" she asked, frustrated. "I really can't grasp concepts like these when it comes to business. Teach me. Maybe I could use this skill someday."

"It's really simple. You have to keep watching people and their behaviours. You look at their eyes," he instructed and pointed at his. "The lips and at which way they turn. All subtle nonverbal cues, like a twitch of a finger to grander ones like an upward tilt of a chin, could hide deceit, shrewdness, guilt, fear."

He looked back at Yane to find her giving him her undivided attention.

"Now, look again. See that man?"

"Yeah?"

"He keeps on putting one hand in his armpit like this," he whispered and demonstrated. "Then, he puts it over his nose. Like this. He doesn't look like he's comfortable so he keeps on squirming in his seat and looks like he's about to walk out and head to the restroom. You want to know why?"

"Say it already, Zuko," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"It's obvious. There's a 97.6% chance he has body odor, so he keeps on sampling a whiff."

He watched with malicious amusement as Yane's face mollified like she's lost all control on the muscles that kept her skin taut. Before he could blink his eyes, Yane's hand fazed out of his sight and flicked on his forehead.

"You made that all up!" she exclaimed and made another attempt to hurt him by pulling his ear this time. Luckily for him, Zuko was able to move out of her trajectory whilst setting loose the laughter he's been keeping since his whole fiasco began.

"Now you know why his companion is leaning away from him?" he asked between fits of snorts.

"You stupid walnut," Yane cussed pathetically. "If you keep this up, you'll end up a corpse I'll be dumping at the back of this restaurant by the end of the night."

"Calm down, Shinayane Koujida," he raised his hands mockingly. "Food's almost ready. Don't try to eat me."

She pointed the knife at him threateningly, and with the murderous glower she was currently projecting across her, Zuko had to swallow dryly as a trickle of something akin to fear tickled his spine.

"You look a bit like my sister on her worst days," he commented dryly.

"I'm probably going to be worse than her on MY worst days."

"I'm not going to question that. Makes me think how the guy who hurt you stayed alive."

He had only meant it as a joke, but something flashed through her eyes and all the playfulness vanished—leaving behind only hollow turbulence that began pounding off her like the anguished howl of a wind just before a storm.

"Me, too, sometimes," she said thickly before the corner of her lips quirked up to a painted tragedy—broken and tender.

Zuko wished he should've just shut up.

~ O ~

"Now try this one."

For the second time that day, Zuko found himself sending a prayer above to give thanks for having a mother and an uncle who taught him things he'd be using in his arsenal right now for the pure purpose of entertainment. Yane's laugh by his side was an affirmation to that, a cool and gentle sound straightening out some of the worry creases in his face.

"What do you call a hipster who weighs a lot?"

Yane snorted through the tightly clamped hands over her mouth. "What?"

"Instagram."

And laughter sprayed out of her mouth in choked gurgles and ungraceful snorts. Her guffaw turned into silent sobs as she started to pound on the wooden bridge, her other arm wrapped protectively around her tummy.

"It's not even that funny," he remarked hoarsely, eying her with sheer incredulity.

"I know!" she said in between gasps. Wiping her tears, she held on the bridge for support and proceeded on giggling like a mad man on a killing spree. "It's you—the way you say it. Li-hahahahaha!"

"The way I say it?" he echoed. "Katara used to tell me I kill jokes without any effort by the way I deliver them."

"That's exactly my point! You say it like you don't know what you're talking about."

"And that's supposed to be funny?" he sneered at her.

She cried, a screech that tore up deep from her belly through her throat and out of her mouth as a nasty shriek. It almost felt like his ear drums burst by the proximity of the glass-cracking noise.

He counted to ten, his patience fizzing until he couldn't take her dying whale noises and deadpanned, "I think you've made your point, Japanese woman."

"Oh, my," she laughed breathlessly. "You're so precious. You're really so precious."

Zuko waited for her breathing to even out, choosing instead to admire the man-made pond under the bridge on which they stood on. The water was calm, the undisturbed surface smooth as a mirror. Reflections of the street lamps appeared like floating balls of fire on the lake. If he strained his eyes, he'd see their reflections, too, standing side by side with only centimetres separating them.

"You feel cold?" he asked, glancing at her outfit.

"Nah, I'm fine. And for the record, I totally saw you checking me out and disguising your leering as gentleman concern."

"How much calories do you burn by jumping into conclusions like that?"

"A lot," she shrugged and turned on her heel, resting her back on the ledge. "That's why I stay in shape. Besides, I'm almost always right about my conclusions."

"Yeah? Give me one time you got it right."

"Well, Mr. Hong, I'll have you know I guessed that you were going to ask me out."

Zuko quirked his brow and stared at her challengingly. "I didn't think I was obvious."

"You weren't. In fact, you made it a point to look like you wanted to incinerate me with every glare you generously shot at my direction."

He let the insult slide and pressed on, "Then how did you come up with that?"

Yane slightly twisted her body so that she was in front of him, her other hand still laid onto the ledge for support. Slowly, as though he'd suddenly disappear, she placed on her hand on his shoulder and inched closer. Zuko's breath hitched, the temperature around him escalating degrees higher.

Her eyes locked on his, captivating him with the way she looked at him like he was the most valuable treasure in the world, and she kept it that way, until her face broke into a grin so wide he wondered how her face remained intact.

"Yane—" he warned with unsaid threat.

"You should've seen your face!" she roared again, shoving him aside. "You looked so nervous, my golly gosh. Have you never kissed anyone?"

"I have! Stop laughing!"

"But you looked so pure and astonished, like, oh my goodness. You're so precious."

"You're despicable. In my whole life, I've never met anyone as immature and scattered-brained as you are. And that's saying a lot considering I meet different breeds of people!" he yelled as he sank into a gooey mess of humiliation. "You're even worse that Sokka when he's drunk. I can't imagine how devastating it'd be for anyone to be near you if you get drunk."

"That's why I never drink, Chinese man."

"I'll never understand what I saw in you that made me like a clown like you."

To her credit, she went on spewing bouts of guffaw as she repeatedly punched her abdomen in a failed attempt of keeping those sounds down. For a minute there, he actually thought she was dying of lack of air and was about to make a run for it but a voice gave a harsh stab in his mind. He wanted to argue back and buy more time for himself, but what was the point of prolonging this agony that's been eating at him since the sun rose that day?

"Yane," he said carefully, hearing the slight quiver in his voice and cringing internally.

She glanced at him.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

She stopped in the middle of her laughter, looking like a cat caught rummaging food in a dumpster. Zuko mentally patted himself in the back for putting an end to that broken sound. If he hadn't, his eardrums would've bursted and he'd have to come home with yet another permanent injury in his face. His stomach, however, made back handsprings before jumping to a dive into the center of the earth.

Mai's reaction to his proposal had been a stark contrast to the expression that crossed Yane's features right now. He remembered how Mai, even when she had still worn her trademark nonchalant, blank look, relayed the uncharacteristic elation she felt over his confession. His heart had swelled with happiness back then, and he had wanted nothing more but to crush her into an embrace and never let go.

"Zuko," his name was painful to hear with the broken tone she used.

He shook his head, unwilling to hear the next things she wanted to say. Her face. Her face looked so pained, so hurt, so alone. Why? Why was she looking at him as if he ripped her heart out when he had only expressed how much he wanted her?

Gulping, he forced out a smile. "I'm kidding."

"No. Look at me."

"It's okay," he said, more to himself than to her. "I'm okay. I can wait. You know that, right?"

"If I say yes, will you stay with me here? Leave behind everything in China and start a new life with me and Kosuke? Will you be his dad?"

Her voice was infuriatingly calm that he felt something inside him flare madly.

"Is that what you're worried about?" he snapped, temper reawakening after a long slumber. "That I'm not man enough to commit to you and your kid? Yane, if you ask me to do something, whatever it is, I'll do it! I like you that much!"

"Will you give everything for me?" she asked quietly.

"Yes! Didn't I make it clear enough?" he borderline yelled.

Yane looked deep into his eyes as she held out her hand which he reluctantly took before squeezing. His mind was a flurry of messed up thoughts and sentiments that he couldn't hear above those voices anymore, yet he stared back at her, willing her with desperate and unspoken pleadings.

"Even when you're still in love with someone else?"

"Yes—" his speech came to a rough halt, his tongue paralyzed to the floor of his mouth as her implications only started to set in. He stuttered, "What—what did you say?"

Her gaze shifted slowly from his face to the scarf tied around his neck just as his heart decided to skip a beat. Horror dawned upon his face as his hand unconsciously lifted to grasp the piece of cloth. He began to shake his head and utter a word of disagreement but the solemn glance she casted him—knowing, understanding and accepting, it told him everything he had to hear from her.

"That's not true," he could only manage a whisper now, and once again, Zuko so lost again. Alone and off to live in a place that was foreign to him. Aimlessly wandering and drifting again in the sea.

"I can't read minds, but people say I have a talent in sensing what others feel. You always think about her, whether consciously or not."

"Don't make this about Mai," he said through gritted teeth. The anger, where was it? That was one thing Zuko was perpetually good at. He revelled in it, held it as his weapon and defense, but as he tried to summon it, he realized he could only chase after its afterimage. Right now, he only felt all the pent up rage snuffed out and reduced to rivulets of smoke.

"It's not just about Mai," she continued, undeterred. "I know that your feelings are genuine. I'm more than honoured to be the recipient of that. I'd gladly reciprocate, but if I did, you'd end up getting... trapped. Here. Forever."

"You make it sound like a bad thing."

"It is," Yane said through a mirthless laugh. "Do you understand what you're trying to do? You're leaving behind reality in favor of living in a dream forever."

"Stop speaking in poems," he practically begged. "I don't get it. You're—you're being too unfair. You can't just—just leave like that. I thought you said—"

He felt her hands cup his face and she came to him, closer and closer, until her lips nearly touched his ear. "You still have a family to save from their own self-destruction. A destiny to claim. A woman waiting for your return."

"Yane, please," he rasped as he rested his forehead against hers. "Let me fall in love with you. I'll make you forget about all the pain you went through. You won't have to cry anymore. Please..."

"Choosing each other won't erase the ugly things we try to keep locked up in the closet. We'll always be prisoners of our past. If we had just met in a different time, in different circumstances, I would've fallen in love with you without holding back. We'd get married, have as many kids as we want, and grow old together. Trust me, I really want to love you so bad."

She encircled her hand around his wrist, just as she always had when their hearts beat in unison.

"You have to move on. You can't keep on looking at a star because it brightened your path. It's there for a reason."

He wanted to go on and on, pour out everything he felt about her. The person who sprinkled specks of light over him. Tiny and seemingly insignificant as they seem in the enormity of the abyss that had enveloped him, that faintest glow became his Polaris.

How he wanted to affix his gaze to the skies above and stare at her luminosity. Let the waves carry his boat for as long and as far as they wanted. It didn't matter, did it?

"You're not my stopover."

She smiled, "But I'm not your destination, either."

Her grip on his wrist was loose, her fingers resting over his pulse with feather-light touch before he gently pried her hand off in favor of putting his hands on her cheeks. Zuko closed his eyes and pressed his lips on her forehead. He planted another kiss on both her eyebrows, the bridge of her nose, over her cheekbones. Underneath his touch, he could feel her stiffen, her fingers on the collar of his shirt making small spasms as he brushed his lips on the corner of hers.

He angled himself just so he could stare back at her face—eyes closed, eyebrows drawn. Briefly, her eyelids fluttered open. Obsidian met amber before they lost sight of each other once again as he swooped down to kiss the other corner of her mouth.

Zuko tilted his chin, his lips now hovering over hers. There was barely an inch between them but it might as well have been miles keeping them apart like they were now. If he crossed that line, if he kissed her lips—he knew there'd be no point of return. His heart ached with every beat, blood flowing in gushes through the new wound she punctured through it. Steady and smooth. Fine and mendable.

She opened her eyes when the kiss didn't come.

A bruised smile graced his lips as he drew circles on her cheeks and leaned his head against hers again.

"Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

Yane bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly. "Promise me that the next time we meet will be when you've found yourself."

"I promise."

She let out a whimper and encaged him in a tight embrace, bounding him like metal vice that it almost hurt his ribs. But Zuko fiercely hugged her back, biting back his own sobs as he quietly prayed that this was indeed the best for them, because if he was going to let her go, he wanted nothing more but for Yane to also be freed and find herself.

For better or for worse, it was time to leave that star behind and move on with the journey.

~ O ~ 

Not for the first time that day, she walked through a haze of doubt blindly.

Did she make the right choice? Didn't she deserve to be selfish once in a while? Every single reasonable thought that came to her told her that what she did was the right and noble thing. He needed his family and friends. He needed to set things right for himself. He didn't need her.

It's one thing to take a break from all the bullshit life threw at him. It's another thing to completely isolate himself from his nightmares and live in limbo with her all his life. She pressed her palm unto her aching chest and silently assured herself.

She did what's right.

She did it for him.

And yet, it was difficult to ignore the voice that screamed and begged at her to take her words back. Would he change his mind and accept her again? With a pang, she remembered the way his eyes had dimmed before regaining a sparkle she had never seen in Zuko before. And as wickedly selfish as it was, her heart had pricked with jealousy. Why had it been so easy for him to just take her words and give her up? Maybe she did like him more than he did her, and the thought of that squeezed at her throat it made her eyes sting with bitter tears.

Why had she always been on the short end of the stick? Why was it always her who needed them more?

Catching herself, she coughed and pressed her palm on her chest in a futile attempt to calm the ugly emotions that threatened to tear her from the inside.

She opened the door and removed her shoes. After which, she placed her hand over the package of takeouts and felt the warmth of the freshly cooked food in a pathetic attempt to distract herself. Shuffling towards the kitchen, she forced her mind to drift towards her son who was probably asleep already. She silently cursed herself for forgetting to get that honeydew milk Kosuke wanted to try.

It was then when she noticed Taiga's hulking figure by the table, the sharp outlines of his face only partly illuminated by the lone dim light at the corner of the dining room. Internally, she let out a sigh of hysterical relief. Had she not kept those persistent tears at bay, he would've caught her.

"Hey, why are you still up?" she asked. She made sure her tone was neither flat nor lively. Feigned nonchalance or forced enthusiasm would only serve as transparent films to cover up the tumultuous state she was in. It was a trick she had to learn around Taiga so he wouldn't see through her.

It was no small feat to evade those predatory and intent eyes, after all.

"Wanna eat?"

When no reply came, she shrugged half-heartedly. "Guess not. It's way past your bedtime. You can eat them tomorrow."

She pulled the fridge door open and began to store the food in. She could feel questioning eyes boring at her back, and the intensity of his stare made her want to shrink away. She knew she didn't have to hide anything, especially not from Taiga. But if she started bawling her eyes out, he would start asking questions. Demanding would be a more proper term she guessed. And knowing him, Taiga would paint anyone who made her cry as the one at fault without any questions asked.

She didn't have the heart nor the energy to deal with that outburst, even if it were for her sake. And she doubted that hearing angry words directed to Zuko would help her. If anything, it'd pulverize what was left of her. It was her choice. Zuko had made his to choose her initially, but she, noble, tender-hearted, gentle Koujida Shinayane, had turned him down because she had claimed that it was the best for them both.

Maybe.

Maybe for him.

But for her?

Zuko was a tiny flicker of flame amidst the darkness that made her walk astray for a long time now. He was the life outside anything her ex had frozen and asphyxiated with only as much as his existence. Why had she been so foolish as to let Zuko go without thinking about herself? She liked him so much, and she wanted to fall for him and not be able to get up anymore, but those chains, rusted as they were, held her in place even as she desperately clawed at it to reach for him. Perhaps they weren't even chains. It felt more like arms that caged around her whole being. Keeping her in the wallowing dark waters. Slowly pulling her back down into a void she thought she could get away from.

_'Let me go, please.'_

"So did he ask you to be his girlfriend?"

His words almost undid her. The tears swelled up in her eyes. Yane lifted her hand and sank her teeth into her index finger. The sharp pain made her wince as she tasted iron in her tongue, but it somehow dulled the stabbing sensation in her heart.

Reigning back her emotions, she swallowed and answered, "Yeah, but we both decided that it was best for us not to pursue a relationship."

She was ready for the onslaught of questions from him. In fact, more than half of the time waiting inside the bus on her way home was spent mulling over fabricated answers. A pinch of lie mixed into a batter of truths twisted a little bit. It had always worked if she's able to make her emotions work for her.

Yane turned around and waited, but a minute passed and Taiga still hadn't looked back at the mask she was already wearing.

"Get to bed," he finally said immediately after she sat across him.

Promptly, he stood up and grabbed his glass of water before heading to his room without another word.

Yane took her time to pour herself some water, watching with misplaced interest as the fluid filled her glass and formed small bubbles that clung to its walls. She stared at it for a while until she decided it was time to drop the act. She downed the glass in one go and made her way to her room.

Only when she had closed the door behind her did she allow the porcelain mask to break. Tears streaked down her cheeks and trickled from her chin.

As her feet numbly carried her to her bed, she pressed her finger pads on the side of her lips where he had kissed her, chasing desperately after the remnants of him giving her his farewell.

Zuko. Dearest Hong Zuko.

From the moment she laid her obsidian eyes on Zuko's amber ones—those beautiful irises that were only a shade brighter than _his_ , she saw the lost little child that hid behind a shell of a hardened man. A far cry from the liberated man who held her face and kissed her like she was the most precious gem he has ever found.

Yane's heart bled for her loss. What she had just let go—it wasn't going to return to her.

She would miss him.

She would spend a long time thinking about what could've been rather than what has been and would be.

Three years from now, Yane would be laying on her bed, just as she was now, wondering again if she had made the right choice for herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is from Crazy Rich Asians movie. I loved the Chinese version. Here's a translation from /Genius-english-translations-katherine-ho-yellow-english-translation-lyrics
> 
> My feelings and hopes land in your hands  
> Sprouting into night's rainbow  
> Morphing into the moonlight's breeze, into moonlight's breeze  
> Happiness  
> Leap into your river and swim to the end  
> Leap into your river


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years later, they meet again.

Rekindling  
Chapter 8

_I'm waking from this dream  
Returning to reality is so bittersweet  
But I open my eyes and the illusion is fading  
Slipping away_

__

__

_Although I've found you, I know this meeting will not last  
I have to let go, continue finding your way  
Though I will miss you  
It's time to wake from this dream  
(Remembering, Yutaka Yamada)_

The first time she had laid her wistful eyes on one Hong Zuko, her gaze zeroing to the scar adorning a quarter of his face, she had known his name was nowhere near Lee Huang Zhi.

Lee has gotten everyone fooled. Hair long and unkempt, eyes scalding with jagged edges, facial expression constantly troubled—the image of Lee was a blatant contrast to the pristine, eager-to-please and ironed out Hong Zuko who appeared in the newspapers beside the Hong patriarch, Ozai. No one in the right and rational mind would mistake Lee for Zuko, especially when the incident that caused that permanent burn mark in his face was safely kept from the public. 

But Akashi Seijuro knew, and so, Koudjida Shinayane also knew. Akashi had told her about the Agni Enterprises heir one afternoon with tea cups held in their hands. Her childhood friend had appeared serene as he had narrated events of the scandal with completely detached words as if he was presenting statistics of their latest sales. The redhead had always been hard to read, like a math problem she couldn't solve even after wracking her brain and heating her ass on the seat the whole day. Growing up with him, however, made it possible for her to pick up the subtle narrowing of his hooded eyes and very slight upturn of lips. Bitterness had blanketed his face, and it wasn't too hard for Yane to realize that her Seiju-kun was wondering how ironically fortunate he was to be better off than Zuko. 

Even when he was in his own version of despair.

She didn't tell Zuko that she knew Akashi, or that she knew a little about his past. Doing so would've added salt over his wounds, and doing so would open up conversations she wanted nothing to do with. So, she left it at that and let him tell his own story.

"Yane!"

She started, the line of thoughts in her mind making a broken turn at the sudden call of her name. Yane turned around in time to receive the hug that was thrown around her shoulders.

"Katara," she breathed. "It's so good to see you again!"

When Katara finally pulled away, Yane caught a glimmer in those sapphire orbs that never failed to bathe her with kindness. She knew that she had so many questions she wanted to ask, but Yane was ready to answer. It's been three years since they last saw each other, and they had never talked to each other between that transition of time. In a way, she was glad Zuko kept his promise to leave her be. Unfortunately, as it had always been, distancing from one person included distancing from his friends. 

He must've already told them what happened between them, but Zuko's friends had become hers, too. She at least owed them an explanation.

"Can't say the same thing," another voice spoke and Yane caught sight of Toph whose grin widened. "Literally speaking, that is."

"Toph, you... you're..." and she trailed off as her eyes fell on the huge bulge around her belly. "You're pregnant?" 

"I'm not the only one," Toph replied airily with good-natured but teasing smirk and promptly gestured to Katara. 

"You're both pregnant!" Yane gasped. "But, when? And who? I mean, Katara, you're married to Aang already?"

She winced as the words left her mouth. A fright electrocuted her chest and she wondered whether she had assumed wrongly and had unduly placed herself in an awkward position. But thank God above, Katara winked at her and rubbed her hypogastric area. 

"We had a small wedding. Only our friends and a few people in the hospital I work in know."

"How many weeks?"

"Going by LMP, 7 weeks and 2 days."

"Bring your medical lingo somewhere everyone can understand, will you?" Toph jeered, to which Katara responded by shooting her a look.

"What about you, Toph?" Yane asked. "Did you finally marry the Eddie guy Sokka keeps talking about? 

Toph made a cross of a snort and a scoff as she waved her off. "Nah. Turns out Eddie is gay. I met a few guys afterwards and well, one was pretty straightforward about wanting to have sex with me, so I let him have it."

Yane felt her face burn at the crass and shameless recounting of Toph's sex life, and she seemed to have noticed by the way she amped up her mischievous smile. Yane decided she has had enough information and did not pursue the topic further. Instead, she asked, "What's his name?"

"Oh," Toph deadpanned, disappointed that Yane did not take the bait and started picking at her nails disinterestedly. "The jerk’s name is Mark Miller."

"No, I meant the baby," she laughed and Katara shook her head.

"Oh," Toph said again, but this time, with an inflection that matched the way her colorless irises brightened in a way Yane couldn't comprehend. "It's a 'she'. Tell you what, I'd love to tell you more about this little guy in here, but let's take this inside. I'm feeling my back."

"Wow, Toph, you sound like an old woman," Katara snickered but linked her arm to Toph's.

"I don't want to hear that from someone who's older than me," she shot back coyly.

"Hey! I'm only 2 years older!"

Yane observed the way Toph leaned to Katara's touch while she kept up with her obnoxious taunting of the tan-skinned woman's senile age. She noted the way Katara yelled back at the pale and shorter girl with an affection one would see from an older sister. Her heart ached and suddenly, she yearned to smell the peach-scented cologne of her friend back home.

"Orange, are you coming or not?" 

Yane blinked back the memories that were already playing in her mind, before chuckling and grabbing Katara's already outstretched hand. 

__

_~ O ~_

"Stop stuffing your face with all these nuts, Taiga! You'll be full by the time the main entrees are served."

Kagami only managed to look glumly at her before unceremoniously shoving another handful of said nuts in the cavernous pit known as his mouth. And to irk her further, Kosuke mimicked him and popped a considerably fewer pieces in his mouth. 

"Baby," she said in a warning tone.

"Oka-chan, you should try it," he replied instead, picking up a nut with his chopsticks and presenting it to her. "It's so much better than the freebies you bring home."

"Don't you know I squabble with those doctors to win those nuts home? And then, you tell me they're no good?"

Seeing that she wasn't going to take a bite, the blond boy threw the nut into his mouth and began to chew. "I didn't say they weren't good. Besides, I think Uncle Shintaro will like the packets of mixed nuts more than we will. Can't we bring them to Japan for him, instead?"

"I guess. I'll just tell him I bought it for him rather than telling him that I got them from the hospital stash, huh?"

Kosuke laughed at her and winked like they were sharing a deep secret—a look that Yane swore she saw somewhere almost what felt like centuries ago. "I won't tell, Oka-chan."

She forced a smile, in turn. "That's my baby."

"Shouldn't you be sitting beside them?" Kagami threw in once he had his fill. 

Yane glanced to the direction he was pointing at and saw Suki practically sprinting towards Katara and Toph, who both, upon seeing her, stood from their seats to welcome her. Sokka trailed behind her, but his attention was focused on their table, both his arms waving like a maniac with an elated smile smeared over his face.

As she raised her hand to wave back, she noticed that he still sported the same witty air and easygoing nature, but his hair, which had always been tied in a wolf-tail, was slicked back. The new look made his undercut appear more appealing than before. More tamed but still manly, shall she say it. It suited the event today. 

Sokka pointed at Kagami, who in turn nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes flaring with excitement reminiscent of those he wore before a basketball game. 

"They're still busy entertaining the other guests," she told Kagami as he flashed Sokka a thumbs up.

"Who's that?" Kosuke asked, eyebrows raised.

"That's your Uncle Sokka and Aunt Suki," she answered as she watched Suki smile at her and made motions closely interpreted as 'talk later?'. "They used to come by often. Taiga and Sokka would show each other off in eating contests just to see which of them can devour 10 burgers without passing out."

"Isn't that unhealthy?" he wrinkled his nose, making Yane laugh softly. 

"It's nothing new, right?" 

"But still," he chirped worriedly. "If Oji-chan isn't exercising, I bet he's supposed to be obese already."

"Ace, don't start," Kagami spat, his supposedly sharp threat failing to instil the intended effect. 

The image of a nasty-looking beer-bellied Kagami allowed bubbles of laughter to effervesce from her stomach. 

"Oka-chan?"

"Yeah?" she asked absentmindedly, still watching her old friends from afar.

"Can you take a picture with me in the garden outside? While the food isn't here yet?"

"Oh, why?" she blinked at her son's eager demeanor. "Anything interesting outside?"

"Didn't you see the big stone dragon with bamboos surrounding it?" Kosuke made a show of spreading his hands to describe the enormity of the said statue. "We need to have a remembrance."

"Fine, fine," she said, amused, picking up her phone from her purse. "Will you stay here, Taiga?"

"I'll watch our stuff," he replied and sniffed the tea served to their table. "Don't take too long."

"Aww, don't be sad, Taiga! We'll come back as soon as we can. Don't stray too far away, okay?"

"Oi!"

"Come on, Ko-chan," Yane called as she pulled the snorting boy to stand. 

The posh Chinese restaurant was similar to the ones she had frequented whenever Akashi asked her to come with him to one of his boring dinner meetings. It had a regal aura in each of the pillars that stood to hold the high ceilings inside the establishment. Red, gold and earth painted the interior, slithering on the walls and floors as intricate carvings that certainly took a gifted artist to create. Yane could pick up a faint scent of a strange mix between agarwood, incense and fresh tea. It was oddly pleasant, and almost addictive. 

The whole place honestly looked intimidatingly selfie-worthy. Almost like a Chinese mob’s expensive lair. Her mouth had been watering and she was a hair away from also begging Kagami to take a photo of her by the huge porcelain vase that was almost twice her size. Yet, in a surprising composition of balance, the venue was homey with the soft dim lights and mellow Chinese instrumental music. Almost like Jasmine Dragon Tea shop.

Such an antithesis.

So, very Zuko.

"I told you it was huge!" Kosuke borderline yelled in awe, beholding the figure of an ancient dragon, carved out of perfection and master craftsmanship, looming over them and staring down at them like they were mere, flitting ants under its gargantuan talons. 

She stared at the enormity of that long jade body and wondered how much the whole thing costed, and as she gaped openly, "Wow" was the only thing she could say.

"Look at those red eyes!" he pressed on with his excitement pouring over. "Are those rubies? 'Ka-chan, someday when I get rich, I'm going to buy you something even bigger than that. Do you want a phoenix instead? Or a lion? Turtle? Can I go get Oji-chan? He might want to have a selfie, too!"

Sometimes, her blond angel was as talkative as someone she knew. With all the willpower she could muster, she fought down the upcoming thought and stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder. Yane cocked her chin to the direction of the dragon and said, "Are you having the picture or not? Go stand there already and I'll take the photo. I'm starving."

"Told you you should've eaten some nuts," Kosuke pouted and complied.

"I'm tired of nuts," she grumbled and angled her phone in ready for the snap.

"Why don't I take the photo of you two?"

She jumped and made a garbled noise of a duck who was shot down from the sky, almost, but not quite dropping her phone. Talk about a jump-scare. Her eyes twitched as her two fingers held the device now only a few inches from the ground. Keeping her head down and her body bent, she inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled before thinking that she was probably just stalling what she was bound to face anyway. Yane stood up straight, hand and phone close to her chest as her onyx eyes connected with molten gold.

"Yane," Zuko breathed, and Yane felt her own breath hitch in her throat. "You came."

There he stood, with flesh and bones—no longer a mirage she had been accustomed to seeing only as a figment of her memories. His hair had gotten shorter and neater. His physique had gotten stronger. His stride buoyed with confidence. His smile, not a hint of sadness to taint the pure joy his lips told. 

She stood there, too, basking in the sun which finally broke out of the clouds to bestow earth with its radiant shine. "You look great."

He chuckled, and his soft voice brought her back to reality. It was then when she realized who walked behind him. 

"Yane, I want you to meet Mai," he said before turning his head and looking at his companion with eyes that welled with love and adoration. "Mai, this is Yane."

Mai had her coal black her tied up to a neat bun, large camellia flowers adorning both sides. Her small eyes, just like her hair, were dark—in fact, so dark Yane could drown by just looking at them. Her smile was small, but it suited her petite face and pristine visage. Alluring and cold. A fine complement to Zuko's fiery core. Yane waited for a prick of jealousy to nick her in the corners of her heart, but to her pleasant surprise, she felt nothing but acceptance and a little simmer of happiness. 

It had been three years since she had told Zuko to chase after what he thought he had abandoned in exchange for a new life. He did get one. A different one from what he had been yearning for, but so much more better than any of them had expected. She couldn't have been more proud.

"Hi, Mai," she found herself greeting her jovially, the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth easily. "It's nice to meet—"

Her words were cut off abruptly with a light 'oof', Mai's arms now enveloped around her slender frame. She awkwardly raised her own to return the hug, albeit confusingly and with just the right amount of unsurety. Yane picked up a hint of lilies instilled in the fragrance from the camellia in her hair before she was released from the hug.

"I've heard so much about you," Mai informed her, her voice husky as she shared with her a look that had underlying messages in it. 

Yane didn't know if it was a trick of the eye so she tried not to think much about it. "Good things, I hope."

The raven-haired girl gave Zuko a sidelong glance. "He told me everything."

She hoped her unease did not appear in her face as hundreds of questions ran a thousand miles per second in her brain. What did she mean by everything? Everything, as in, everything? Or everything, as in, the some fragments of truths carefully filtered out to preserve her womanly dignity as the 'one who presumably got away'? 

Quickly, she shot Zuko a look and said, "Oh? He told you about how I was a pain to his neck when he supervised my 'shoddy' and 'sloppy' work? Or about how I resemble those serial killer clowns in horror movies when I'm on a high?"

Mai's smile made a smooth transition from pleased to amused. "He did emphasize those."

She actually chortled at that, feeling the wariness leave her body by a large degree. "I'm glad Zuko is still as painfully frank as ever. Mai and Zuko," she paused to gaze upon the couple, and, "Congratulations on your wedding."

"Congrats!" Kosuke piped up from her side. Yane blinked at him, forgetting that her son was actually standing next to her. 

"Thank you, both of you," Mai bowed. 

"Hey, there, Kosuke," Zuko bent down as well, but for a different reason. He placed his hand on top of Kosuke's head and gave it a light ruffle. "Long time, no see."

Kosuke made a puzzled expression and scrutinised Zuko's face with narrowed eyes. Yane was about to chide him for staring too long (at the man's scar, unavoidably so) when Kosuke spoke, "Your eyes look familiar."

"I used to come by your house often. I taught you a few magic tricks, remember?"

"I..." he scratched his cheek. "I think I remember a bit."

"Hey, why don't you come with me first, and I'll tell you more about Zuko so you could remember," Mai made a sidestep towards Kosuke, her white dress fluttering ever so slightly from the wind that blew its light and chilly gust. "What do you say?"

Yane shook off her momentary confusion when she realized what Mai was probably doing. Still, she couldn't help the furrowing of her brows, especially when Kosuke furtively looked at her underneath those long lashes. She easily translated the look of concern in his guarded eyes. It filled her with pride and affection for her son.

She nodded at him with a smile of reassurance. "Go tell Taiga I'll be back."

That earned him a smile of his own, and with that, he was ushered by Mai back into the function room. 

"I'm glad you made it," Zuko said once the two were out of earshot and walked closer to the dragon sculpture they were marvelling about just a few minutes ago. 

Now that they were alone, nervousness slowly creeped back along her spine, but she steeled herself to follow his brief trail and managed to say honestly, "I'm glad you made it." 

She really was. To have come this far to fulfil the promise he made was no small feat, but there had always been that huge trust in Zuko's packed up in the back of her mind where she did not touch for the past few years. He's moved on, and now more than ready to take back what was rightfully his. Earlier the day, she stared at her reflection in the mirror as Yane questioned, hopefully for the last time, whether she had made the right choice to let him go. A flower like that was so hard to find. She'd be one foolish woman to leave it be to wilt under the unforgiving glares of the sun or the cruel, battering force of the rain.

But who was she kidding but herself? She left the flower amongst the others, and it thrived and bloomed into something she could barely recognize. She'd be one foolish woman to cut it from its stem and keep it in her vase to dry out and wither.

She made the right choice after all.

Yane was surprised for the second time that night when she suddenly felt his arms encage her into a tight embrace. With her face buried in his chest, Yane started to feel the panic erupting from the pit of her gut as she struggled to break free from what felt like a vice grip. 

"Zuko!" she hissed with a harsh whisper and was rewarded by an even tighter squeeze. "Let me go! Your wife will see, damn it."

His chest vibrated with a low rumble of laughter. "I asked permission from her."

"I don't know what happened, but you're crazier than you were before. And that's saying a lot, considering how you were," she growled and tried to shove him off her.

Zuko made no attempt at a reply. After what seemed like hours, he decided to release her, a satisfied smile glued to his face like another mark. 

"Wipe that obnoxious smile off, will you?" she huffed.

"What, you didn't miss me?" he chuckled, the sound of his voice still a bit hoarse and velvety at the same time.

"That's not an appropriate thing to say to a woman on your wedding night, Chinese man."

He laughed again as he leaned back on the towering pillar behind them. "Don't tell me you really didn't, Japanese woman."

"I did," she admitted with begrudge as she took a step beside him. "So, what's up?"

Zuko stared at her eyes for a minute, as though he was trying to figure out the riddle set out before him. He averted his gaze away when she raised her eyebrows and spoke, "The night we parted always, I went home right after and thought hard about the things you told me. I felt so lonely again, and I didn't know who to talk to about it. You were usually my listening ear. It would take some time to get used to keeping those thoughts in my head and waiting for someone to answer my quiet demands.

"But I remembered someone who once listened to all my childish rants." Zuko's voice was only a soft murmur as he went on, "I tried to contact Uncle Iroh."

"What happened then?" she couldn't help but ask.

"My uncle is wise and skilled, but he's a boomer," Zuko laughed, fondness evidently enmeshed in insult. "He doesn't have any phone I can call. Thankfully, Wu had means to reach him. They have this association of old geezers and odd folks called White Lotus. You know, the kind you see in Chinatowns?"

"We have those in Japan, too," she affirmed. 

"Wu pointed me to one of the inns Uncle stayed in. I apologized to him there, and," Zuko heaved a deep sigh. "He forgave me. After what I did to betray his trust, he hugged me and told me I was like a son to him."

Yane placed her hand on his shoulder even though she knew he needed no comfort. She smiled at him. "You did a great job there."

Zuko returned the gesture and grinned back. "It took several months of convincing and bribing on his part, but Uncle Iroh pushed me to finally make a call back home. To Mai. She wasn't as easy to talk to, unlike Uncle, and for a very good reason, too."

"But it worked out in the end, right?" she inquired, throwing a meaningful glance at the direction of the function room where Mai and her son had gone to. "You're even married now. Honestly, I was shocked beyond belief when the first thing I heard from you after three years is an invitation to your wedding ceremony."

He made a halfhearted upward curve of his lips and blinked at her apologetically. "I didn't mean—"

"Hold it," she exclaimed, lifting a finger up. "I'm not asking for an apology or explanation. I'll admit I felt a pang of... I don't know, longing? Envy? But anything negative I felt was overpowered by the happiness I felt for you. I genuinely am happy for you, Zuko. You deserve this much. No, you deserve even more than this."

A grateful twinkle graced his eyes. "Thanks, but I'm a bit scared."

"Of what?"

"Of myself. I can't fully trust myself to protect everyone I love from my father, or from myself for that matter. Sometimes, I see myself behaving like him, acting based on the principle he drilled into me since I was a kid.

"But," he said, just when she was about to tell him he was different. "I have friends who won't let me become like him. They won't hesitate to punch me in the face when the time comes."

"I'll be one of the friends to punch you."

The glare she had missed so much permeated his dramatically determined expression as he turned to her. "I guess violence hasn't left you."

"I guess sourpuss temper hasn't left you."

The stare-off lasted less than ten seconds. The silence completely left the two when strings of laughter tumbled out of their mouths. 

How she missed this.

"So, I heard you're asked to go back to Japan?" he said when the simper died down.

"How did you know?" she asked suspiciously.

"Taiga and I kept contact."

Her mouth fell slightly open at this tidbit of information. "What, really? He never told me."

"Well," he began with sarcasm laced in that single word. "You could expect him to just casually tell you he's chatting with me when all you did was mope like a heartbroken teenager when you thought no one was looking."

"He told you I was moping?" she cried. "That frickin' traitor!"

Zuko crossed his arms. "Does it bother you?"

"Of course, it does. I can't believe he said—"

"I didn't mean that. Does it bother you that we kept in touch?" he pressed, voice hard and serious.

"No," she replied with a shrug. "On the contrary, I'm thankful that you didn't sever your friendship just because we... kind of broke up. When I saw the others a while ago, I felt guilty that I stopped talking to them or taking their calls. Just because we decided to call if off doesn't mean they stopped becoming my friends. I think I have to apologise for that, huh?"

"I talked to them. They understand."

"I still have to explain, though," she intoned sheepishly. "They deserve that much. But, speaking of, I haven't seen Aang yet, but Katara's here."

"Aang's just running a bit late to pick up some papers, but he was in the Church wedding earlier," he shrugged and pressed his lips as though he was keeping himself from smiling widely at a recent memory that crossed his mind. 

"Church wedding?" she repeated.

Zuko set his eyes back to meet her curious ones and gave her a nod. "I read the book you gave me. Saved me."

Ah, there it was. The very truth that transformed Zuko to an entirely different person. Someone saved by grace. The tears were barely suppressed as she packed him a friendly punch on the arm. "Took you long enough."

There was a silence between them. It gave her some time to recount the moments since she stepped foot in this Chinese Restaurant as a guest in Zuko and Mai's wedding reception. There were only a few other guests from what she heard from Katara—just some close friends and co-workers, and some of Iroh's Pai Sho-slash-White Lotus buddies. She hasn't seen Korra, Mako and Bolin, either. 

Mustering up her courage, she asked, "Does your family know?" 

"Only Uncle Iroh," he replied before his features darkened. "But Mai's parents and brother know. It won't take long before my father and sister find out."

"I see."

He made a swift and barely perceptible shake of his head before arching his brow. "Enough changing subjects, Yane. Are you going take Caduceus's offer to go back Japan?"

Grumbling at her futile attempts of escape, she sighed, "I'm still thinking about it. I still have a year to consider the project."

"What's holding you back?"

"You already know," she muttered, dropping her eyes to the patterns of gold and black on the marble floor. "It won't be easy to hide Kosuke from people."

"I know we're not the same. Our circumstances are nowhere near similar, except," he paused to fix the cuff of his gray coat—at least, that was what it looked like at first glance. Yane squinted her eyes as Zuko removed his cufflink, one that was vaguely shaped like a small tongue of flame, and pressed it into her palm. 

When she flickered her eyes at him with a question mark written over her frown, he continued, "I noticed we're both at least comparable to fire. Fire dies down when cooped up in a closed space without oxygen, because it's meant to blaze out in the open air and provide warmth to its surroundings."

She stared down at the cold piece of metal in her hand as she digested his words. "Are you giving this to me?"

"For the sake of poetic symbolism," he rubbed his chin. "Yes. I brought an extra if that's what you're worried about."

A watery laugh left her lips as he fished out a plainer cufflink from his breast pocket. "But now, they're mismatched."

"No one's going to see," he said and promptly fastened it in.

Yane let the cufflink roll in her palm before she picked it up with two of her fingers and observed the little details in it. There were so much at stake. She couldn't even think about facing each of the friends she left behind without any explanation. She just disappeared because it was convenient for her, not sparing an ounce of care for those who would've been there to nurse her wounds. But then, didn't she deserve at least that? To be afforded the chance to run away when all she had been doing her whole life was using her own body and throwing it across a battlefield without as much of a thought about her well-being?

Couldn't she be selfish once in a while?

"But I'm not saying you should go back," Zuko suddenly blurted out upon sensing the gloom now surrounding her and weighing her shoulders down to a slump. He waved his hand comically in front of him, looking like he'd just insulted her mother with the kinds that warranted severe punishment. "I'm not trying to force you into anything. I just wanted to say, carry on with your life? Think about what you truly want in this universe, and just keep moving forward... Argh! You know giving talks like these isn't part of my skill set."

What she truly wanted?

Embracing what she truly wanted was a thought that terrified her immensely, so she avoided those waters as much as she could. However, Zuko's words managed to undo those blindfolds on her eyes for a while until she caught a glimpse of it. 

The laughter that left her lips felt like catharsis. Though it sounded like it edged on madness and the inexplicable sense of reckless freedom, she felt like the suffocating hand around her throat loosened. Even if only a bit.

Zuko scratched the back of his head and struggled for words to say, but Yane shook her head and curled her fingers around the now precious memento. "You're still a dork."

"That's not something I want to hear from you," he harrumphed but relaxed visibly. 

"Thanks," she said. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I'm here for you, Yane. Always."

"Likewise."

The two observed each other's eyes. Obsidian met gold—a rare event such as when the moon was permitted to come across the sun in an eclipse. A fleeting moment in time was all the two individuals needed to get back on their paths. Yane couldn't have thought out a more apt metaphor for this special encounter.

"Come on," he said as he pushed off from the pillar and straightened out his coat. "I'll introduce you to Uncle Iroh. You'll love him."

"Does he make better tea than you?" she asked and followed the suit.

"Of course," he glowed with pride. "I learned from the best."

__

_~ O ~_

That night, Yane lowered herself slowly until back connected with the feather-soft fabric of her bed, a sigh of content escaping her. She raised her arm to hold the fire cufflink in the air as she squinted her eyes to trace the outlines of the flame. 

Unlike her, Zuko has gotten everything figured out. He was planning to go back to China, along with his wife, Iroh, Aang and the rest of the gang. With the indispensable help of his uncle, who, Yane just learned, was also a powerful man in his own league, they would be able to go back immediately and most importantly, protected from any schemes Hong Ozai might have under his sleeves. Aang was going to fulfil his role as whistleblower to the Yong Fu oil rig scandal. Zuko was going to fight for his position in Agni Enterprises. 

And when all that was settled, they were going to look for his still missing mother.

Figuring himself out, no matter how significant of an accomplishment that was, was still just a single step closer to his goal. The next hurdles he'd have to face was neither going to be a walk in the park nor a breeze in the wind. But at least, she thought, Zuko was ready. He wouldn't be alone this time.

Yane let her arm drop by her side and squeezed her eyes shut before relaxing and releasing yet another sigh—one that was laced with resignation to defeat.

That night, she let go and slipped passed through the barriers her mind created for her heart and indulged herself in a forbidden decadence. The scent of citrus encased her and enthralled her until her feet carried her to where she had always thought she belonged. 

There, he stood, in the middle of sand and sea.

Golden eyes. Golden hair. Golden heart.

For once, she let herself fall back into his arms without any restraints and guilt.

That night, she met the man she thought she forgot in her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the outside characters here are from Kuroko no Basuke. Disclaimer, not mine!
> 
> Well, that concludes it. Hope you enjoyed somehow! Keep safe everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hi, welcome! I've always dreamed about writing a tea shop AU with Avatar, featuring our favorite, awkward firebender. It will be a parallel to the original series, but of course with some major changes because of the settings of this fanfiction and the existence of the OC right here. And yes, other than the fact that I know some Chinese, I'd make a guess that maybe the fire nation can pass as Chinese. But then, the nations in the Avatar do look likea mixture of races and cultures, so yeah.
> 
> Enough ramble. Next chapters are going to be longer, I promise. Please review as you go! I'd love to hear your thoughts. Take care!


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